


Your Ex-Lover Is Dead

by only_because3



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 02:37:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 43,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_because3/pseuds/only_because3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Set in the 1940s. "Have you ever thought about what you would've done if you hadn't had Beth? What you'd be doing now if we hadn't met?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written a bit ago (and originally posted on ff.net) based on a kink prompt and it grew into this massive story that became my baby. One day, I plan to go back and flesh this story out more and fix minor errors but for now, I'm just getting it posted here :)
> 
> Another note: I use both Yiddish and German words in this story. I believe the two I use the most are liebling, which means darling. and geliebte, which means sweetheart

The first time Quinn ever sees her is when she's seeing her husband off. The woman is dressed in an off-white suit that's more masculine than Quinn's own feminine one; Instead of a skirt, she wears high waist slacks (that, when Quinn studies the woman further, makes her appear taller than she probably is) and her suit jacket is relaxed and open. Her hair is in brown curls and she hugs the man she's with tightly (he buries his face in her mess of hair and looks like he doesn't want to let go). She's the first to pull away and Quinn notices just how hard the tall man is trying to keep it together here at the train station. Poor boy, she thinks. She'd be terrified if she were being shipped off to a war too.

"I can't wait to kill those fuckers." She narrows her eyes and turns to Noah, slapping his shoulder. "What? Come on, Quinn, you've heard what they're doing to people."

She sighs and nods, hands moving to straighten his tie (goodness, he can barely tie his tie; how on earth is he going to make it overseas?). "I know but that's no reason to use such language in front of me." She lets out another breath and then adjusts her small hat, hands moving to run down her neatly pressed yellow jacket and skirt. The train whistle blows and she fakes a smile, her white teeth poking out from behind red lips. "Please come back alive, Noah."

He smirks like the cocky bastard he is and tells her that of course he'll come back alive. "I'm ten times stronger than half these dudes." He kisses her one last time before grabbing his duffle from the ground. "I love ya, Quinn."

Her smile becomes a little less fake. "I love you too."

He trudges off and ends up walking with the tall boy who was with the brunette. She takes a deep breath and holds it in, only releasing it once she can no longer see the boy she's known since she was 13. She clears her throat and tugs on the hem of her suit jacket, gloved hands smoothing over the fabric even though it's perfect. Her eyes raise and meet that of the tan young woman who can't be much older than her, if that. She gives Quinn a crooked smile, hands shoved into her pant pockets. Hazel eyes widen in surprise for a moment but then she finds her voice and calls, "Husband?"

She shakes her head. "Boyfriend." Quinn nods and the other girl strolls over to her, extending her bare hand. "Rachel."

"Quinn Puckerman," she answers, gloved hand grasping the extended one. Rachel raises an eyebrow, eyes inspecting the pale blonde's face. "Husband." She tilts her head in the direction of their long gone men and Rachel smiles.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Quinn. Let's hope that we'll see each other here again when our boys come home." She smiles and Quinn does too, eyes focused on the naked lips in front of her.

And then just like that, she walks away, leaving Quinn and a handful of other abandoned women behind.

* * *

The next time Quinn sees her, she's wrestling with Beth just outside the supermarket. Her 'bundle of joy' has been fighting with her tooth and nail the whole way to the store because she's getting to the age where this whole stroller thing isn't working for her anymore. "Out!" Quinn sighs tiredly and leans down, pushing her daughter back in her seat.

"You won't be able to keep up with me if you walk," she lectures, watching as Beth struggles again with all of her one and a half year old might. The older blonde gives up momentarily, grabbing her purse and pulling out the rationing coupons she's been given. She's running low on the clothing coupons she realizes now, frowning as she thumbs through the booklet. She looks down at Beth who's trying to escape once more, inspecting the clothes the little girl is wearing. Quinn may have to start tearing apart the outfits Beth has already grown out of and sew her some new ones if she keeps growing as fast as she is.

" _Hey!_ " Both Quinn and her little look-a-like glance up, eyes focusing on the brunette she had seen at the train station a week ago. The next thing Quinn notices is the elderly woman behind her, wrinkled hand falling quickly back to her side. Quinn moves the rations booklet to her chest, pushing Beth forward as she takes a huge step away from the elderly woman who glares past her. "Go away, old woman!" Rachel marches up to the blondes, hands on her hips as she stares the woman down.

Eventually the woman, who reminds Quinn an awful lot of Grandma Fabray, stalks off, rounding the corner once she reaches the small hardware store. Quinn turns to thank the brunette but is cut off when she notices that Rachel still looks angry. "Keep those close to you. People have been stealing them left and right," she lectures and Quinn nods. Rachel glances back to reassure that the old woman is gone before turning her attention back to the two girls in front of her, her face softening when she gets a good look at the girl in the stroller.

Rachel smiles down at the little girl, running the back of her index finger along Beth's rosy cheek. "She's a cutie," the brunette muses before she stands back up. "Just like her mom."

Quinn ducks her head slightly, blushing as she murmurs a thank you. She watches Rachel curiously, noticing how relaxed and non-judgmental she is around Beth. Not many people accepted the fact that she had her daughter so young when she had been poised to do great things; she had been 16 when she got pregnant and her entire family forced her to marry Noah once they started speaking to her again. And she's seen the looks she gets in stores when Beth calls her momma, those looks that make her feel like trash. But Rachel, this woman she's only met once before, is standing here making funny faces at her little girl in the stroller like it's completely normal for an 18 year old to have an almost two year old child.

Beth giggles from her seat, small hands reaching up for the shorter woman. "May I," Rachel asks. Quinn looks at her daughter wide eyed as she nods. Rachel picks up the tiny blonde, smiling as Beth starts playing with chocolate curls, baby teeth in full view.

"She likes you," Quinn says, obviously flabbergasted by the sight before her. "She doesn't like anybody… She barely likes me sometimes."

"You're her mother, she loves you."

Quinn smiles before she glances at her wrist watch. "It's almost noon! I should let you go about your day."

"I wasn't up to anything today. I'm not up to anything anymore actually, now that Finn's gone. If you'd like, I can help you with your shopping. Keep Beth entertained and keep away any greedy old women," Rachel offers lightly, placing the small girl back into the stroller.

"I don't think I've noticed your accent before." It's Rachel's turn to look down, kicking a pebble on the ground. "Where are you from?"

"Germany." Quinn clutches the stroller so tight that her knuckles turn white. Her whole body tenses as she looks at Rachel closely. She knew that Rachel was Jewish, that much was obvious, but Quinn assumed that she was from somewhere here, somewhere that Quinn hadn't been and therefore couldn't place the accent.

"Is your family here with you?"

Rachel shakes her head. "They sent me over here about four, four and a half years ago. They're still in Germany."

Quinn swallows hard, leaning down to run her fingers through Beth's silky strands. She wants to ask if Rachel's heard from them but Quinn's not stupid. She knows that there is no hope when it comes to anyone different in Nazi occupied Europe. So, she settles on asking the next question that comes to her mind. "Who are you living with?"

"I'm staying with Finn's mother," Rachel replies with a small smile. "I'm trying to help her while he's gone but there's not much to do around the house since we're both home and Finn isn't there to dirty it."

Quinn smiles and nods before turning inside the store, motioning for Rachel to join her.

* * *

She sets up Beth with a few toys in the middle of the kitchen before she turns her attention to the groceries she bought. She didn't buy much but she still spent two hours walking around the store with Rachel. That girl was definitely something different. Maybe it's because she's not from here or maybe it's because she just doesn't care, but she's a lot more candid than anyone Quinn's ever met.

While they were in the store, Rachel asked an older woman at the end of the aisle what she was starting at and then proceeded in explaining just how rude it was to openly gape at someone, especially someone who was busy trying to shop and take care of her child.

That was another thing Quinn noticed, how well versed Rachel was in the English language. ("Finn and his mother spent a lot of time helping me with it. I already knew a little thanks to my father but they helped me with my pronunciation and everything."

"Are you this verbose in German too," Quinn asked as politely as she could and Rachel gave her a small smile.

"I talk a lot in both languages. I'm sure if I was given enough time I could talk your ear off in any language.")

Another thing Quinn noticed was how… careless Rachel was about her appearance. Quinn rarely left the house without some form of make up on her face (her mother always told her that leaving the house with a naked face meant that she was either lazy or poor and Fabrays were neither) and her hair was _always_ done if she was leaving the house. The brunette on the other hand let her hair fall around her shoulders in a curly mess, though she did have her hair pinned on the sides of her head in order to keep the brown locks out of her face. Rachel's face, on both occasions, were void of make up, making Quinn believe that she didn't wear make up ever (or at least not on a day to day basis). Not that she needed any. Quinn thought that she looked beautiful both times she's seen her.

Quinn finished putting away all the groceries and glanced at the clock. It was a little past four meaning that all the extra time she spent at the store had completely ruined her routine. "Beth, do you want to help me pick the veggies?" Her daughter looks between the doll in her hands and Quinn's outstretched hand before sighing. Quinn stares at Beth curiously, watching as the small girl walks to the back door, dragging her doll behind her. "You, my child, are quite peculiar." Beth looks almost annoyed that they haven't gone outside yet and Quinn sighs before grabbing their jackets.

Once Beth is bundled up, Quinn opens the door and attempts to help the toddler down the steps but the tiny blonde ignores the outstretched hand. Instead, she sits down on the edge of the first step before turning around and crawling down the first step backwards. She repeats the process with the second step and when her feet hit the dirt, she stands up slowly, looking quite proud that she made it down the steps on her own.

"Sometimes I think you don't even need me," Quinn mumbles to herself as she follows her daughter to the garden. It amazes her sometimes just how independent and distant Beth is from her. She asked her mom once when Beth was a little smaller if she or her sister had been so distant and, judging by the look on her mother's face, neither of them acted like this. Quinn hasn't decided yet if this is a good thing or not. On the one hand, it sort of crushes her heart that Beth almost always wants nothing to do with her. Beth is her _daughter_ and she is her _mother_. Shouldn't little girls want to spend time with their mother? Quinn knows she's not an amazing mom but it makes her feel like she's failed when Beth wants to do something on her own and away from her.

On the other hand, a sense of relief washes over her when she realizes how independent Beth is. Quinn has _always_ been dependent on someone. First her mother, who literally provided her with life and food for the first two years of her life. Then her father, who always spoiled her and her sister and made sure they always had enough of everything. And finally Noah, who is providing her with everything she could need now. Honestly, it's horrible knowing that she's never been able to stand on her own to feet. She's always had a man to catch her if she fell, to give her food when she's hungry, to clothe her when she's naked. But here her daughter is, not even two, and already fending for herself more than Quinn ever has.

"Momma!" Quinn blinks, snapping out of her daze and bends down to look at the zucchini in Beth's hands.

* * *

Later that night, Rachel stops by the house with a loaf of banana bread in her hands. "I hope you don't find it rude that I stopped by," she says when Quinn opens the door.

"Of course not! I told you to stop by whenever. Come on in. Have you eaten yet? I just served Beth and I."

"I wasn't sure if you really meant for me to stop by whenever or if you were using an expression. That is an expression isn't it?" Quinn smiles and nods, taking the bread from Rachel so that the brunette can take off her coat. "I would love to have some dinner if you have enough to spare."

"I haven't gotten used to only cooking for two quite yet." Quinn motions for Rachel to follow her and tells her to sit down at the table. "Do you eat non kosher? If not I have plenty of mashed potatoes and peas."

"I'll eat whatever you have to offer. After I moved here I realized it wasn't realistic to keep the diet I had back home." Quinn nods and fills up a plate for her new friend.

"Next time I'll make sure I cook something you can eat guilt free. Whenever Noah's mother and sister come over, I have to cook a kosher meal. I have to prep everything a little earlier than I normally do, but it's not any trouble."

"That would be really nice. Mrs. Hudson tried to make latkes once but that didn't end so well." Quinn puts the plate down in front of Rachel before returning to her own seat. "She's a wonderful cook but it's hard for her to learn new things."

"I moved in with Noah's family when I was pregnant and Mrs. Puckerman would teach me a new meal everyday. She's very proud of my latke abilities actually," Quinn says with a small smile. "Where is Mrs. Hudson? I would've assumed that you two would eat dinner together."

"Normally we do, but she's volunteering at their church tonight. She's helping them set up for some function and is also cooking dinner for everyone else who's volunteering. I would just eat at home, I don't care to go to their church though I'm sure it's lovely, but I had such a nice day with you two that I figured I would come by."

"At least she's finding something to do with her time. Is Mr. Hudson in the war too?" Quinn notices Beth's plate is still relatively full and so she uses her own fork to scoop up some mashed potatoes and holds them in front of Beth's mouth.

"Actually Mr. Hudson died in the first war."

"Oh…" Quinn swallows hard. "That's unfortunate."

Rachel shrugs and takes a bite of the peas on her plate. "I think that's why Mrs. Hudson is trying to do so much. She doesn't want to think about Finn possibly not coming home like her husband."

It's quiet between them for a bit as Quinn tries to get Beth to finish her dinner and Rachel picks at the small slab of meatloaf on her plate. "How long have you known Finn?"

"I met Finn the day I came to America. I docked in New York and wandered around for a few hours. I was supposed to meet my uncle but I never found him. I ended up walking around the city and ended up in front of a corner store. Finn came out, he had been visiting his grandmother, and asked if I needed help… I've been with the Hudsons ever since."

"They just took you in?" Quinn's parents would _never_ do that. They only look out for their own, everyone else be damned. "Did you ever find your family?" Quinn almost apologizes for all the questions but Rachel doesn't seem bothered by it at all.

"Mrs. Hudson is a wonderful woman. She didn't even consider leaving until I found my family or went back with them. And since I couldn't track down my uncle, he probably changed his name when he came here or they changed his name, whatever the case, I decided to come back here with them."

"You look about my age… You must've been a child when you came here."

Rachel nodded, setting her fork down on the edge of the plate. "I was thirteen. It's wasn't too bad. Scary but I'm sure me being lost in a new country isn't as scary as where I'd be if I stayed in Germany."

Quinn swallows hard. It's weird to hear the other girl talk so lightly of what's happening to her home, to her parents, her _people_. She just sounds so detached for someone who should care more than anyone. It's almost like she's adopted the American view of the way. When Quinn hears people talking at church or on the radio, they talk more about the Japanese and what's happening over _there_ rather than what's happening in Europe. She supposes it makes sense, that Americans would be more concerned with the people that actually bombed their land rather than the evil happening in Europe.

Or maybe Rachel's just stopped thinking of Europe, of _Germany_ , as home. And honestly, Quinn can't blame her for wanting to revoke that place as her home now.

Rachel wipes her mouth with her napkin before placing it back in her lap. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Quinn. It's just easier to act like I don't care most of the time than admit that I know my parents are dead already or in one of those camps."

Quinn's eyebrows scrunch together, a frown setting into her perfect skin. "I…" She sighs and wipes some mashed potatoes off of Beth's cheek. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be apologizing for."

"I'm sorry that you're in this situation. Nobody should have to have a thought like that in the back of their mind. Though I suppose that's not really something that can be pushed to the back of your mind."

"No, no one should. But it's something we both have to deal with. Surely you must worry about Noah fighting over there. He's Jewish himself and he's going into the heart of it all."

Quinn opens her mouth to say that _of course_ she's worried about her husband (he is off to fight in a war) before she stops herself. "Oh," she whispers, not even reacting when Beth drops a few peas onto her dress. Truth be told, Quinn _hadn't_ thought about it like that. Noah wasn't just a soldier fighting in a war; he was Jewish and fighting in Nazi occupied Europe.

"Quinn?"

"I hadn't realized that… Oh my goodness."

Rachel gets up from her seat, swatting Beth's hand as the little girl tries to drop more peas into her mother's lap. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I just thought…" Quinn waves her hand in the air and takes in a deep breath.

"I _should_ have realized that. I don't know why I didn't. I think I was just so focused on the fact that he was a soldier. Not that he was Jewish." Rachel squeezes Quinn's shoulder and the blonde smiles carefully before looking into her lap. "Beth!"

The little girl giggles next to her as Quinn gathers the vegetable on her dress. "At least we can go through this together, hm?" Quinn nods, her cautious smile getting a little bigger.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to google translate:  
> Das genügt völlig = That is quite enough

Quinn groans and lifts her head tiredly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She flushes the toilet as she stands up, her hair falling in a mess around her shoulders. This is the fifth morning she's woken up and run to the bathroom. Two days ago, she had to restrain herself from gagging when she was chopping up a clove of garlic. She's felt a bit more sluggish lately, though that could be from all the vomiting, and as much as she'd like to believe she's just sick, she knows she's not.

She stares at her reflection carefully as she washes her hands. She doesn't look too tired (at least not anymore than usual) but she is a lot paler than usual. Her eyes travel down, examining her chest the best she can through her nightgown. She brushes her upper arm against the side of her left breast swiftly, causing her to breathe in sharply. Her arm falls back at her side as she turns off the faucet, grabbing the hand towel from the side of the sink.

It's been almost a month and a half since Noah left. Between all the things she does on a daily basis (like cleaning, cooking and gardening) _and_ Beth, she didn't even realize she hasn't menstruated since before she saw her husband off.

"Crap," she mutters underneath her breath. She goes over to the tub and starts the bath before pulling her nightgown over her head. She'll have to call the doctor at some point today and then she'll have to figure out how the hell she's going to function with another baby. " _Another_ baby…" She barely manages with Beth! They can barely afford everything they have now and what if Noah isn't back by the time the baby's born? She'll have to ask her parents for help and that is not something she particularly wants to do.

She eases herself into the hot water, looking at her stomach curiously. It's still flat (though not really. There's still the slight curve left over from Beth) but it's only a matter of time before she balloons up again.

This new baby means three things. One, her parents are going to hate her even more than they do now. They can't stand Noah and, until she gave birth to Beth, they denounced her as their daughter. And now she's having another baby with a man they hate? She grabs the soap and starts washing her body angrily, groaning at all the potential scenarios she's creating in her head of her parents' reactions to the news (her father is going to _scream_ and her mother is going to look at her _that_ way, the way that makes Quinn feel worse than the yelling does).

Two, they're going to have to change the way they spend their money. They don't buy things in excess but they could cut back on a lot of things. Beth doesn't need a new toy or dress every week and they could do some creative things with the groceries. Quinn could grow more vegetables, maybe even convince Noah to buy a few chickens and keep them on some of the extra land they have behind the house for eggs or meat. And she could do a bit more work as a seamstress. Of course, she'd have to work out of the house (when would she find time with two children to leave?) but whenever she used to do some sewing (and the occasional quilting) she always got compliments on her work. Plus, for right now at the very least, she doesn't have to worry about factoring Noah into their monthly expenses. Maybe this won't be the worst part of this baby thing.

The final thing though, the one that Quinn's the most upset about, is the fact that she's probably never going to have any outside contact with the world. When she got pregnant with Beth, all of her friends pulled away from her. After all, they were still kids. They could go and do fun things and get into trouble and the only thing they had to worry about was their school work. Quinn on the other hand had to think about the baby growing inside of her and where the hell she was going to live. Since Beth was born, the only people outside of her family that she speaks to are the people at church, whoever helps her at the grocery store, and Rachel (and she doubts that Rachel will stick around once this little piece of news comes to light). Now that she'll have two children, she knows she'll never be able to do something for herself for a very long time. She won't be able to sit and relax or breathe or talk to anyone who isn't a child for the bulk of the day. It'll just be her, completely alone, with her family.

She takes a deep breath and disappears under the lukewarm water completely.

* * *

It's become a regular occurrence for Rachel to eat dinner with them, which is why Quinn shouldn't be surprised when the brunette walks through her door Monday evening. "Why are you wearing a jumpsuit and why is it so long," Quinn asks, stirring her rice carelessly as she inspects Rachel's appearance.

"I joined the war effort as a factory worker," Rachel exclaims valiantly, shoving her hands in to the pockets of the jumpsuit. "And this was the smallest size they had. It's a little big in some places but…" She shrugs and walks over to Beth, crouching down to say hello to the girl who had been staring at her, just as confused as her mother.

"I'll hem it for you after dinner." Quinn returns her attention to the food on the stove, making sure she didn't ruin her rice. "What made you join," she asks as Rachel leans against the counter next to her.

"Now that Finn's gone, I have nothing to do all day. Sure, I help Mrs. Hudson clean in the morning, but beyond that I don't do much. And I don't care for busy work or knitting or anything like that which is why I spend most of my time walking around town. But it's getting much too cold for that anyway. I saw a sign as I was leaving the store this afternoon and figured why not? It is for a good cause after all."

Quinn nods, understanding even though she wishes she had the free time to be able to walk around town at her leisure. "Is your first day of work tomorrow?" She kills the flame beneath the two pots on the stove, wrapping her hand in her apron before she grabs the handle of the pot filled with rice.

"Yes ma'am." Rachel grabs the white serving bowl from the counter behind her, holding it as Quinn spoons the rice in. "And I would be eternally grateful if you could make this look less like I'm swimming in it."

Quinn smiles softly and opens the door of the white oven to check on her brisket. "This still needs a few minutes. Come on up to my sewing room. I'll get everything pinned and then sew it after dinner." Quinn picks up Beth who immediately starts throwing her weight so that she can get out of her mother's arms. She sighs heavily as she hoists Beth higher just before they begin their walk up the stairs.

She _hates_ when Beth gets like this when other people are around. It embarrasses her that her daughter always seems to cause a scene when other people are around. Her father had asked her why she couldn't control _that_ child (that's who Beth is when she misbehaves) when they were at church yesterday. Beth had sat in the middle of the aisle and would kick and scream if anyone tried to move her. Eventually, Quinn had to throw Beth over her shoulder as some of the older women in the back of the church muttered words like possessed and demon. She spent the rest of mass outside trying to calm Beth down in the frozen garden next to the church.

She wonders what people must think of her when Beth does things like this. She already knows that the women at church blame her. They think she's far too young to be a good mother and that's why she can't control her child. Sadly, Quinn can't help but think that that may be the case.

"Das genügt völlig! Why do you give your mother such a hard time," Rachel scolds from behind her. Beth stops crying and stills in Quinn's arms, almost surprised at what just happened (and Quinn has to admit, hearing Rachel speak German shocked her as well).

Quinn sighs heavily as they turn into the room. Of course Beth would listen to someone who isn't her mother. Quinn sets Beth down in the wooden playpen she keeps in the corner of the room before pulling the stool out from beside her desk. "She just gets into these moods sometimes," Quinn breathes out, putting her hands on her hips tiredly.

"She's a child. All children have outbursts like these," Rachel replies as she steps on to the stool.

"She seems to be the worst." Quinn sits down on the floor with her pin cushion on her wrist, legs crossed elegantly under her dress. "I suppose that could reflect on my parenting though."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "You're a good mother, Quinn. Beth is exhibiting perfectly normal behavior for a girl her age." She pats the blonde head next to her, giggling when Quinn looks up at her with a glare. "Did you do anything notable today?"

She shrugs, instructing Rachel to turn so she can pin the other leg. "I went to buy some fabric and then went to the doctor."

Rachel's brow furrows as Quinn stands up, grabbing the sleeve of her jumpsuit and folding the cuff. "Are you or Beth sick?"

She blows a stray hair out of her face as she shakes her head. "Beth's fine and I'm perfectly healthy," Quinn answers, pinning the cuff just in case it slips a little when Rachel takes it off. "I'm just pregnant."

"Isn't that supposed to be good news," Rachel asks, putting her fingers under Quinn's chin so she can see the other girl's frown. "Are you upset?"

"You're very strange," Quinn blurts, apologizing as soon as the words leave her mouth. "I just think that you're the only person who would ever _think_ to ask me that." She puts one last pin into the jumpsuit. "Okay. Be careful when you step out of it. I placed the pins so you shouldn't get pricked but you never know."

"Why are you upset about being pregnant?" Rachel unbuttons the first three buttons of her jumpsuit, carefully extracting her arms as Quinn walks across the hall to her bedroom to grab her robe from the chair of her vanity.

"It's hard enough managing with Beth. I'm not sure I could manage another child. Especially not during the war." Quinn goes over to her desk and puts the pin cushion back in its place, carefully looking at Rachel out of the corner of her eye. She watches as Rachel unzips the pant portion of her jumpsuit, slipping pointed legs out of the fabric one at a time, slowly enough so that she doesn't kick out any pins or prick her feet. Quinn blinks and breathes out silently, her hand coming up to grasp the cross that hangs against her chest as she returns her gaze back to the wood of the desk. "It's just not the right time."

"Well, money shouldn't be too difficult. Noah should make a decent amount of money while he's serving. And even if that's not enough, I'd be willing to help. Either around the house or giving you part of my earnings." Rachel scoots the stool to its place in the room and holds her jumpsuit out.

"I couldn't ask you to do that, Rachel." Quinn trades her robe for the brunette's jumpsuit, forcing herself to keep her eyes on the other girl's face. Quinn honestly doesn't know why she's being so awkward about this. She's changed in front of friends before and vice versa. Rachel should be no different. Yet here Quinn is, fighting off a blush as the woman stands in her bra and panties. "I've been thinking about it lately and I'll just have to be creative with some things."

"I _want_ to help if you need it, Quinn. Even if you don't feel comfortable taking money, I can easily help you around the house. Especially the further you get along," Rachel says, putting on Quinn's robe and tying it shut. "This doesn't have to be a bad thing."

She puts her hand on Quinn's shoulder and squeezes it lightly as Quinn lays the jumpsuit over the chair in the room. "The brisket should be done by now. Will you be comfortable in the robe?" Rachel nods as Quinn picks up Beth.

"Let's go eat."

* * *

A few weeks later she notices Rachel pressing her fingers into her temples roughly, the brunette squeezing her eyes shut shortly after. "Are you okay," Quinn asks, setting her open book down on her legs. Rachel shakes her head, moving her fingers to her hair and begins quickly extracting bobby pins. She still has her hair back in a bun, something she only does for work.

"I've got another headache." She drops the bobby pins on to the side table and allows her hair to fall around her shoulders. "I think I'll need to get it cut soon." She finally gets all the bobby pins out and tangles her fingers in her hair, fingers working to try and relieve the pain in her head.

"It would probably help a lot with the headaches. Come here," Quinn says, marking her place in her book and tossing it on to the coffee table. Quinn pats her lap and Rachel hesitantly lays her head in the blonde's lap. "When I was younger my mother would keep my hair long, even when I complained about my head hurting." Quinn's fingers start at Rachel's hairline, pushing gently yet firmly into the girl's skin before rotating in small circles. "She'd do this when I'd start crying because of my headaches." Her fingers slowly work back, pressing a little harder as she moves further back.

"Why didn't she cut it if you were hurting?" Rachel's eyes close when Quinn's fingertips return to her hairline, breathing out silently when she feels the pain beginning to fade.

"I don't really know. My mother always kept our hair long. She always said we had such beautiful hair." Quinn shrugs and leans back into the couch. "Is this helping?" Rachel nods against her lap and she smiles. "Good."

Beth stirs in her playpen and Quinn's hands still in Rachel's hair as she peers over at her daughter. When Beth doesn't sit up, she lets her fingers continue their path along Rachel's scalp. "This feels wonderful," Rachel sighs, sinking further into Quinn's lap.

Somehow, they end up lying like this almost every night after they finish dinner.

* * *

One thing Rachel notices is that Quinn always seems to be doing something in the kitchen. If she's not cooking, she's cleaning or vice versa. Sometimes she even does both, like right now. Her back faces the two of them, moving from the stove where she checks on her boiling potatoes and then to the sink where she finishes scrubbing the casserole pan from last night.

"Noah used to do that." Rachel looks up at the blonde, allowing Beth to grab the doll in her hands. "Play with Beth while I cook. It's nice." Quinn tosses a smile over her shoulder before narrowing her eyes. "Beth!" The brunette quickly turns her attention back to the girl in front of her, eyes widening when she sees Beth reaching for the plates Quinn already set on the table. Rachel wraps an arm around Beth's waist, pulling her away from the table and into her lap. Beth giggles loudly as Rachel tickles her for a few moments, toothy smile remaining even after Rachel stops. "She hasn't laughed like that since Noah left."

"She's definitely a daddy's girl isn't she?"

"Like you wouldn't believe." Quinn dries her hands on her apron before tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She watches the two for a moment, arms crossed underneath her swelling chest and back against the counter. Beth runs around Rachel who sits Indian style in the center of the floor, her daughter laughing loudly every time the brunette spins around in time with Beth, a 'monster' look displayed on her features.

Quinn has to admit, as much as she loves this, it just makes her miss Noah more.

"I got a letter from Finn yesterday," Rachel says once Beth plops down tiredly next to her.

"Really?" Quinn returns her attention to the stove, turning off the potatoes and checking on the roast.

"He hasn't fought yet, seems to be enjoying himself." Quinn isn't looking at her but she can hear the eye roll in Rachel's voice.

"Do you miss him," Quinn asks, pulling the roast out of the oven carefully. Rachel doesn't answer right away which causes the young mother to pause.

"I do… It's weird not seeing him every day. I've seen him every day for the past four years. But I like being able to get out on my own. Not that Finn prevented me from that but it's like a breath of fresh air. Learning for myself instead of being taught." She speaks slowly, picking each word carefully. "I love him, I really do, but I like being on my own."

Quinn nods, her shoulders tense as she mashes the potatoes. "It's good that you have some independence. You can do what you want, when you want. I've never been able to do that. I went from under my daddy's thumb to Noah's wife."

"But Noah isn't here now. You don't have to follow your routine anymore than I have to follow mine." Beth seems completely enthralled by her doll so Rachel deems it safe enough to stand up. She dusts off her pants before walking over next to Quinn.

"I'm pregnant and have a little girl. I can't throw any sort of caution to the wind." Quinn adds salt, pepper, and the tiniest bit of milk and cheese to the potatoes as Rachel washes her hands.

"Well I'm not suggesting you go off and become a nurse for the war effort. But you don't _have_ to clean all day. You don't have to do the laundry everyday. You could sit down and read or you could go into town and just walk around. Maybe even see a movie with Beth. Oh! We could all go to a movie! Like the new Bette Davis film!" Rachel bounces up and down on her heels. "Oh! Oh! Or the new film with Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney! It's a musical! That way Beth could have fun too! Yes, this is a wonderful plan!"

Quinn laughs at Rachel's excitement, stirring the mashed potatoes quickly. "Maybe. But right now I don't think I could leave my routine. Especially with the baby coming."

"The baby won't be here for another seven or so months!"

"That's true but I have to get everything in order while I can…"

Rachel sighs next to her, slumping down against the counter. "You know, you don't have to be 'Noah's wife' while he's away. You can just be Quinn."

The blonde pokes at the pot roast in the oven, glancing up at Rachel with an irritated look. "Quinn is still pregnant and has a daughter."

"True, true. But I think that with my help, you can take an afternoon off and still do something for yourself. Honestly, Quinn, don't you ever go crazy doing the same thing every day?" Rachel's eyes trail her friend as she straightens up while closing the oven door. Quinn's hands come to rest on her hips as she sighs tiredly.

"Of course I do but-"

"But nothing, Quinn." Rachel spins on her heels and picks up the knife beside the chopping board. She begins slicing the loaf of bread Quinn took out for dinner. "You're eighteen years old. Yes you have a daughter and another baby on the way and are married, but that doesn't mean you're not eighteen. You can go to the cinema every once in a while if you have the means to do so. You can read a book instead of making sure the backs of the bookcases are dusted. You can do whatever you'd like."

"I've never been able to do what I want to. Noah isn't particularly stifling. I mean, by the time we really got together, I had a baby and a house to take care of, but my father…" Quinn moves around the kitchen, collecting a few bowls for the mashed potatoes and greens. "Certainly you didn't do as you pleased all the time when you were still with your family."

"I was a young girl then. I still had to listen to my elders. But now that I'm on my own, I can do as I please. I can work and go home and relax. Or I can go home and clean. Or I can come here and spend time with two of my favorite girls." Quinn smiles as she starts spooning the mashed potatoes into the white porcelain bowl before putting the pot into the sink. "I love Finn, but I'm not sure I'm ready to be the housewife he's expecting when he comes back. Shouldn't I be able to enjoy the life I have been given? Shouldn't I be happy I'm alive and go partake in everything this world has to offer?"

"Yes, you should. But what you don't understand is that we're two very different people, Rachel. You don't have anyone to tie you down. You don't have to let Finn make you into what I've become. You don't have children; you don't have a house you _have_ to tend to. You're just Rachel." Quinn smiles again, wiping her hands on her apron before raising them to cup Rachel's cheeks. "Love your boy but don't be me, okay?"

"I don't think that's possible, Quinn." She holds on to the blonde's wrists, her thumbs stroking the soft skin. "Finn wants to settle down and start a family when he gets back. He said in a year or two but you know just as well as I do that when he comes back he'll want them as soon as possible. He won't love me if I don't do that for him." She drops her grip on Quinn's wrists and Quinn moves back to the oven.

"If Finn really loves you, he'll wait until you're ready," Quinn says as she pulls the pot roast out of the oven. She moves around the kitchen and steps around Beth who stands just as Quinn's about to pass her. "Beth! You have to watch out when I'm carrying something hot."

"I don't know if I'd want him too. The world is his oyster or something like that. That's a saying right?" Quinn nods and takes the sliced bread from Rachel's outstretched hand. "If he wants a family, he should start one! I don't want to hold him back. I love him a bit too much to do that."

"Why did you start dating Finn? If you don't mind me asking." Quinn gathers Beth in her arms, holding on to the little girl tighter when she tries to resist. She secures her in the high chair and then sits down herself.

Rachel, surprisingly, doesn't know how to answer that.

* * *

When Rachel comes over after work, she notices the difference in the house immediately. One, Beth doesn't make a sound when Rachel shuts the door behind her. Two, Quinn isn't cleaning the living room or formal dining room. Three, she sees a coat that doesn't belong to either of them on the rack near the door.

She walks into the house slowly, peering into the kitchen carefully only to be met with a blonde she'd never seen before. She sits primly at the round wooden table, hands folded elegantly in her lap, mouth in a straight line. "Who are you," she asks coldly, blue eyes focused on Rachel who now stands in the doorway.

The brunette blinks, dirty hands going up to her face in an effort to wipe away the black smudges (she knows it probably only makes her face look worse). "I'm Rachel," she answers cautiously, observing the older woman. Her figure and face structure match Quinn's and so she asks, "Are you Quinn's mother?"

She nods, face pinched slightly as her eyes roam Rachel. "Mom, I can't find it." They both hear the sound of Quinn's feet on the stairs and then she appears at the end of the hall so only Rachel can see her.

She looks wide eyed for a moment before she smiles sadly, mouthing an 'I'm sorry' before she slips past Rachel and into the kitchen. "I found this one though," she says, showing her mother the blue fabric draped over her arm.

Mrs. Fabray looks at the fabric the same way she looked at Rachel and she shakes her head. "That won't do… Are you sure you looked for the purple?"

"Yes, Mama. I couldn't find it. This is the only one I have enough of for you to make a dress," she says, watching her mom's face drop in disappointment.

"All right then." She pushes back her chair and stands up, straightening out her pale yellow suit. "Is there anything else you need dear? How are you on food?" Before Quinn can answer, Mrs. Fabray walks over to the fridge, inspecting the contents carefully before she shuts the door. "You could use more milk… and some more vegetables. Though you have been gaining a little weight."

Rachel furrows her eyebrows as she watches the scene play out in front of her. Quinn sinks down into a wooden chair, back straight even though Rachel can see she's aching to slouch. "It's because I'm pregnant again, Mama."

The frown that forms on Judy's face isn't hidden at all. "Quinnie," she sighs, hands coming to rest on her hips. "Well, at least you're married this time." Quinn hangs her head wishing desperately that her hair wasn't pulled back so it could fall like a curtain around her. "Your father isn't going to be happy about this. You know how he feels about Beth."

"I know, Mama."

"What do you mean?" Both blondes look at Rachel who is still standing in the corner of the kitchen. "What do you mean 'how he feels about Beth'?"

Quinn's mother stares at her blankly before returning her attention back to her daughter. "Who _is_ she?"

"Mama, this is Rachel, my friend. Rachel, this is my mother, Judy Fabray." Normally, Rachel would offer her hand like Finn taught her but Judy makes no effort to move towards her, just tips her head in acknowledgement before focusing on Quinn again.

"We can't help you forever, Quinn. Especially during times like this."

"I _know,_ Mama." She wants to say that she doesn't want her help, doesn't really _need_ it, but she already knows what her mother will say. She'll point out that this house was a gift, that most everything in said house was purchased with help from them, that she _owes_ them so much more because of what she put them through by getting pregnant at 16. So, Quinn keeps quiet as her mother bores holes into her with her eyes.

With a final sigh, Mrs. Fabray walks back to her chair, picking up her purse and pulling out a rations book and a few dollars. "Go get yourself some food tomorrow and some fabric for me. I'll get the booklet back from you on Sunday, okay?" Quinn nods and stands up, hugging her mother like a good daughter should.

"Thank you, Mama."

Judy tosses another look at Rachel before walking out of the kitchen, the sound of the door opening and closing a few moments later.

Rachel watches curiously as Quinn slumps back down, head cradled in her hands. She takes a tentative step forward, putting her hand on Quinn's shoulder lightly. "Can you get Beth for me?" The brunette nods even though Quinn isn't looking at her and slips out of the room.

Beth's face lights up as soon as Rachel opens the door, small arms desperately reaching for the woman. "Hey Beth," Rachel says, lifting the girl out of her playpen. "Were you a good girl today?" She nods and Rachel smiles because she knows that Beth probably gave Quinn a hard time at some point.

When they get back to the kitchen Quinn is moving slowly, pulling out pots and pans from the cabinets. "Momma," Beth calls from Rachel's arms and the blonde turns around, revealing her wet cheeks. Rachel moves closer, handing Beth off to Quinn's outstretched arms. She buries her face in her mother's neck and Quinn holds her baby girl closer. "I love you."

Quinn smiles and kisses her daughter's head. "I love you too, baby."

"Quinn?" She looks up and Rachel feels bad for interrupting the moment between the two. "Why don't you two go sit down and I'll make dinner tonight." She can tell that Quinn's apprehensive (the kitchen is clearly her domain) but ultimately nods, pulling the brunette in for a side hug before walking into the living room.

* * *

Quinn doesn't mention her mother until the dishes are clean and Beth is tucked into bed. She lies out on the couch, her head in Rachel's lap, something that isn't normal for them (usually it's Quinn who massages Rachel's scalp after a long day) but the brunette knows that Quinn needs this. She outlines an oil stain on the leg of Rachel's jumpsuit repeatedly, eyes closed but still tracing it perfectly. "I'm sorry, Rachel."

"What for," she asks, smoothing down the blonde hair so she can see Quinn's face better.

"For my mother. I was trying to get her out of the house before you got here."

"Don't apologize for her. You didn't do anything wrong." It's quiet but Rachel is itching to find out more about the Fabrays. She keeps silent though because Quinn hasn't asked much about her family back home and for that Rachel is thankful.

"My dad disapproves of Beth. The only reason he even acknowledges she exists is because she looks almost exactly like me."

"Why doesn't he like her? She's an adorable little girl… She's his granddaughter."

"It's not that he doesn't like her, I guess. It's that I had her at 16. It's that I wasn't married when I got pregnant and, I think this is what really bothers him, Noah isn't Catholic." She feels Rachel's fingers stiffen and Quinn reaches up, lacing their fingers together. "I'm sorry about that too."

"You've done nothing wrong, Quinn. A little unconventional, sure, but Beth is something you should be proud of… And she doesn't have any Jewish features. People would never be able to tell she is just by looking at her."

"I wouldn't care if she did. I love Noah's features and I love your features. And faith is important to his mother but it's also important to my family. My dad wants nice little Catholic children and grandchildren and I'm the daughter that ruined that by marrying a Jewish boy. And the shame! Don't get me started on all the shame I brought my family by getting pregnant first." Rachel gives a small smile as Quinn turns onto her back, looking up at her friend. "You'd think my getting pregnant is what started this war."

"You're a wonderful woman, Quinn Puckerman. They're rosh kruv to think you or your family are something to be ashamed of. And you're a better mother to Beth than your mother was to you today." Quinn nods, bringing their joined hands up to rest on her chest.

"Thank you." She says it so sincerely that Rachel can't hold back the grin that forms on her face.

"Any time, Quinn."

* * *

It's Beth who points it out first. The small girl who can barely form certain words is the one who makes Quinn take a step back and realize that her relationship with Rachel isn't 'normal'.

Beth is fighting getting in the bath (as usual). She keeps wiggling out of Quinn's arms, hiding underneath her bed, doing everything possible to escape getting in the tub. "Beth! You have to take a bath," Quinn yells, standing in the middle of the child's room.

"No!" The small high-pitched voice travels out from underneath the bed and Quinn sighs heavily. Her belly, while still fairly small, makes it harder for her to reach her daughter and nearly impossible for Quinn to keep her in her arms when she's fighting tooth and nail.

Quinn runs an upset hand through her hair, a relieved breath falling from her lips when she hears Rachel's boots on the stairs. "Beth," Rachel calls from the hallway, voice carrying a sing-song tone. "Come out and say hello to me." Quinn watches as her naked daughter crawls out from underneath the bed, running past her and into Rachel's arms.

"Mom," the toddler exclaims and the two women tense.

"Beth, I'm not your mom… I'm Rachel. That," the brunette turns toward Quinn and points, "is your mom."

The always defiant girl shakes her head before pointing at Quinn herself. " _Momma_." She turns back towards Rachel, putting her small hands on her shoulders. " _Mom_."

They stare at Quinn's near carbon copy for a while before locking eyes with one another. Rachel opens her mouth to say something but she can only think of correcting the girl again. Quinn doesn't know what to make of this in the slightest.

She clears her throat finally, taking a few steps forward and taking Beth from Rachel's arms. "Come on. Your bath is probably cold now."

Rachel still stands in the hallway even after Quinn shuts the bathroom door.

* * *

"I don't understand," Rachel says during dinner, watching Quinn as she shoots a glare at Beth who's preparing to throw food on the floor. "Are you upset?"

"Beth, stop that or you're going to bed," Quinn warns before turning her attention to the girl next to her. "Why would I be upset?"

Rachel shrugs, hands nervously wringing the napkin in her lap. "I'd think most mothers would be upset that their child called another woman mom."

Quinn takes a bite of her roll, wiping her hands delicately before she responds. "I'm not upset… Beth doesn't like me very much and you're a lot like Noah. The fun one who spoils her…" Her hands come to rest on her stomach and her eyes fall onto Beth who keeps looking at her mother discretely while she eats. "I don't know… I don't know what to make of this but no. I'm not upset."

Rachel nods slowly, taking a small bite of her mashed potatoes. "Maybe I shouldn't come over as much," she suggests after a few moments of silence.

"What? Why," Quinn asks, fork dropping from her hand. "Does it upset you that she said that?"

The brunette shakes her head quickly. "No, of course not. But maybe I've been spending too much time here… If Beth is so used to seeing me that she's calling me mom, maybe it'd be best if I stay away for a little while."

Quinn swallows hard. "If that's what you want… You're always welcome here, Rachel. No matter what." She takes a tan hand in hers and squeezes it gently. "I really like having you around. I don't have very many friends anymore and you're making this whole war a little more bearable." She squeezes Rachel's hand again before turning to Beth. " _Rachel_ ," she says slowly, tipping her head towards the brunette. "You call her _Rachel_. Not mom. Daddy and Grandpa Fabray will be _very_ upset if they hear you say that." Beth nods. "Who is this?" Quinn points a slender finger at her friend.

She fumbles over the name, mouth still unable to form all the correct sounds, but a distinctive 'Ray' can be heard. Rachel smiles a small smile as the girl pouts slightly.

"Good girl." Quinn puts her napkin on her plate, finally letting go of Rachel's hand. She wordlessly picks up the three empty plates and walks over to the sink leaving Rachel to stare at her now empty hand.

* * *

She sighs heavily, dropping on to her bed carefully. The swell of her stomach is a little more prominent now and she's noticed that she's unconsciously moving around more careful than before. She pulls up her nightgown and pushes her underwear down slightly so that she can examine her stomach properly. She's bigger than she was last time, her skin already showing the faintest hint of silvery jagged lines.

A faint creak comes from down the hall and her fingertip pauses over the newly formed stretch mark, only relaxing after a few minutes of complete silence. She readjusts her clothing before grabbing the newest letter from Noah off her bedside table. This is the second one he's sent her and she hasn't written him at all. Both letters have been relatively short and somewhat trivial. He mostly talks about where he is and what it's like there. He'll include anything big that's happened (like when they actually got a nice hot meal and, thankfully, when they miss a battle by two days). He hasn't actually fought yet, something that has made her sigh in relief every time she listens to the radio or rereads his letters. He also mentions a fellow solider, Hud, who he's gotten really close to. He's from Ohio too and she's happy he's found someone he can talk to. Each letter ends with him telling her that he loves her and Beth and that he'll be home as soon as he 'kicks a sufficient amount of ass'.

She takes a book out of her drawer and props herself up a little better. She pulls out a sheet of paper and pen she keeps stuffed in her copy of The Scarlet Letter.

The first thing she does is apologizes for not writing sooner. She hasn't had much time to sit down and put her thoughts on paper (though that's really half a lie). She tells him about Beth (how she's still as stubborn as he is, how she's refusing the stroller, and how she did this really adorable thing at dinner last week) and then tells him how his mother and sister are doing. She debates telling him about Rachel. After all, he told her of his new friend, but she's not sure if she wants to share Rachel just yet. She decides to say that she's made a new friend, a Jewish girl, whose boyfriend is off fighting too. She flips the page over and taps her pen against her lip. She could say more, like how amazing Rachel has been and how much she's been helping, but she decides against it, wanting to keep Rachel hers for a little while longer, especially since she's not too sure just how much she _feels_ for the other girl. Instead, she tells him that she misses him and that his side of the bed is waiting for him.

She ends it with 'Love Quinn, Beth, and baby'.

* * *

One thing Quinn notices when she ends up at the Hudson's a week later is how much Mrs. Hudson reminds her of her mother and how different they are.

Carol Hudson sits across from her, the small wooden table filled to its edges with food. Judy Fabray cooked but it was _nothing_ like this. Carol, as she is insisting being called, has made two different kinds of soup, shepherd's pie, various types of vegetables, some sort of fruit dish (from the looks of it, it's a mixture of mashed cranberries and oranges), and a lemon margarine pie.

"This looks amazing, Carol," she says as the older woman starts filling up a plate for her.

"Thank you, hun. I figured I'd better go all out if you and Beth were coming over. Did you want a little bit of everything?"

Quinn nods and scoops some peas on to the plate she's making for Beth. "Don't be modest, Carol. She goes all out for every meal she makes. She makes the most delicious breakfast casserole," Rachel adds.

"I still can't cook anything for you though," Carol retorts, picking two rolls out of the basket that Quinn brought. "Thank you again for the bread."

"You're very welcome. And making rugelach isn't hard at all. That was one of the first dishes I made and I got it perfect my first time out. I could teach you if you'd like." Quinn sets the plate in her hand down on the counter, moving to grab Beth who has been playing with the new doll Rachel bought her. The little girl notices her mother too late and can't escape Quinn's grip. She pouts in her mother's arms and fights being put in the highchair.

"Beth, be a good meydele," Rachel says from beside Carol and the girl gives up. Quinn locks her into the seat as Carol says that she'd love to learn how to cook at least one traditional Jewish food.

"Did you learn for you husband?" Quinn nods, setting Beth's plate in front of her before taking her own from Carol's hand (she notices for the first time that evening that Carol is still wearing her wedding ring). "I did the same for when I married Frank. He _hated_ the way I made my pot pies and my cranberry sauce. Said the only kind he'd eat was his mother's. So I spent a week straight with his mom, trying my damndest to make it just like hers." Quinn smiles politely, the whole situation reminding her of her parents.

She remembers her mother dreading meals that would require mashed potatoes to accompany it. Judy would whip up a batch that to everyone else tasted amazing but her father would make her try again. If it didn't taste exactly like Grandma Fabray's ( _god_ , she was such a retched woman Quinn realizes now), he'd throw the entire plate into the sink like it was trash. Quinn's not sure she could count how many times she heard her mother crying in the kitchen while she picked up the pieces of broken plates.

"After a while, I got the cranberry sauce right but the pot pies would never turn out the same. Eventually, Frank got over it and would stomach it whenever I made it. I still kept trying all 14 years we were married because I knew he was just being polite but I never could get it right." There's the difference between Judy and Carol. Carol kept trying because she loved her husband. Her mother on the other hand, kept trying out of fear for her father. Quinn's come to realize that there are a lot of things Judy does to please her husband that she doesn't do out of love. She does it because Russell would throw tantrums and yell and break things. Hell, he might even leave her if she didn't do _some_ things. To her mother, this was her job; it was _every_ woman's job to take care of her husband.

"It's nice that you still tried after all those years," Quinn replies right before she takes a bite of the shepherd's pie.

"I would've done anything for that man. Still would." She sighs and Quinn notices that the smile she's been wearing since she's arrived shrinks a little. Carol clears her throat and then takes a sip of her homemade apple cider. "So, tell me about Noah. That's his name right?"

"Yes. Well, I've known him since we were 13. For a while I thought he was just a stupid boy. He was always so obnoxious at school but the more I saw him outside of school and away from everyone else, the nicer he was. We never really went on dates though. Noah wasn't the type of boy to take a girl out but I think we did go to a Bette Davis movie once. Oh, and to the beach. I think it was a week or to after our beach adventure that I found out about Beth." Quinn smiles cautiously, unsure of how the other woman would react. Rachel hooks her ankle around Quinn's and the blonde looks up to find Rachel smiling reassuringly.

"Not everyone does things in order hun," Carol says with a wink. "Did Noah want to join the war? Or was it because of the draft?"

"A little bit of both I think. Over the years, he'd talk about how he wanted to go fight but at the end of the day, he knew he had to stay to take care of us and, well, he was too young. Then he turned 18 and he was drafted and that was that." Quinn shrugs a little and motions for Beth to eat her food.

"Finn was very keen on going," Rachel says as she grabs another spoonful of the fruit dish Quinn's yet to try. "He tried to enlist twice before he turned 18."

"Funny part was, he'd come home _mad_ that they didn't let him," Carol adds with a small laugh. "I think the fact that he could officially serve was his favorite part of his 18th birthday."

They continue to make small talk around the table as they finish up their dinner. Eventually, Carol plates some pie for each of them and then gets up to start cleaning. "Carol! I told you I'd clean up tonight. Sit down right now!"

"Finish your pie, Rachel. I'm perfectly capable of doing some dishes." Quinn watches, amused, as Rachel stands up and walks over to Carol. She takes the soapy pot out of her hands and turns Carol around. She leads her back to the table and pushes for her to sit.

"You do too much as it is. Let me take care of the dishes tonight. Eat some pie, talk to Quinn, finish those socks you've been knitting. Just do something for _you_."

Carol pats Rachel's hand that rests on her shoulder and sighs as she sits down. "Does she ever do this to you," she asks and Quinn laughs lightly.

"All the time. Even more so now that I'm getting bigger," Quinn answers, patting her stretched belly.

"You two never do anything for yourselves. You're both always cooking or cleaning or doing some other busy work. I'm honestly surprised that you find stuff to do all week!" Rachel shakes her head as she scrubs the pot that held the fruit dish.

"You know I like to keep busy, dear. Besides, when Finn was here, cleaning every day _was_ a necessity."

"True but Finn _and_ Noah aren't here anymore. You guys can go a day without cleaning. If you ask me, you both need to spend some time off your feet. _Especially_ you, Quinn." She looks over her shoulder and gives the blonde a stern nod, something that Beth mimics a few seconds later.

"I don't know any different, Rachel. I've been doing this for so long. Besides, I hate to just sit. I need to do something productive," Carol exclaims.

"Are you implying that talking to my very dear friend is unproductive," Rachel asks with an arched brow.

Carol throws her hands up in the air. "Fine, fine. Quinn, _wonderful_ friend of Rachel's, would you like to join me in the living room so that we can annoy her a little less with our domestic habits?"

Quinn giggles and stands up at the same time as Carol. "Maybe we can find something to clean in there."

Carol laughs and Rachel simply shakes her head. "You two are incorrigible," she mutters under her breath.

"Did you want me to take Beth, Rachel?"

"She can stay in here. There's nothing she can really get into anyway." Quinn takes Beth out of her high chair and sets her down by her discarded doll. Carol heads off to the living room, stating she's gonna try and get a fire started.

"I'll be there in in a second," Quinn says as she grabs her napkin from the table, bending down to clean Beth's hands and face before grabbing the dirty plate off the high chair. "This is the only bit of cleaning I'll do tonight. Promise."

"It better be," Rachel warns with feigned authority, only to smile when Quinn does.

Quinn dunks the plate into the soapy water, almost dropping it when she feels Rachel's hand slide over hers under the bubbles. She glances at the brunette but Rachel keeps her gaze down, focusing on separating the pots and pans from the plates and cups. Rachel slides the plate out of Quinn's grasp so that it hits the bottom of the sink with a dull thump before she laces fingers with Quinn. "Thank you for coming tonight. It really means a lot to me."

Quinn smiles, a blush creeping up her neck as Rachel kisses her cheek before resting her head on the blonde's shoulder, her thumb running over her knuckles. "Why wouldn't I have come?"

Rachel tries to shrug as she reaches for the brillo pad on the edge of the sink. "I didn't know if it'd disrupt your routine," she answers playfully, squeezing Quinn's hand tightly under the water. "Go sit with Carol." When Rachel lifts her head and lets go of her hand, Quinn turns quickly so that the brunette can't see her smile drop from the lack of contact.

* * *

Carol sits on the edge of the couch, hands working faultlessly on what appears to be a scarf. "Do you know how to knit?"

Quinn sits down beside her on the couch and leans in to the cushions thankfully. "That's the only thing I don't know how to do. I can sew, quilt, crochet, and I can even do a little weaving, but I just can't get my hands to knit correctly."

Carol smiles widely, checking the last few rows on the scarf. "I think with a little practice, you'll be able to do it. Is it the two needles that throw you off?" She nods, eyes widening as Carol beings to knit a little faster. "It took a while for Rachel to get the hang of it, something she _hated_ because she likes being able to do everything. It probably didn't help that I have a hard time going slow."

"Have you always been this… good?"

"Yep. My mother was useless with any sort of needle but somehow I've been able to knit like this since I bought some yarn and knitting needles at 16."

Quinn's hands come to rest on her protruding stomach as Carol finishes the small scarf. "Does Rachel knit well?"

Carol nods. "She'd probably be a better teacher for you. She knows how to explain things better than I do too." Carol double checks the scarf before smiling, clearly satisfied with her work. Quinn glances toward the kitchen, smiling when she hears Rachel singing over the sound of dishes clanging and running water. "Isn't her voice beautiful?" She blinks and looks back at Carol who now has the aforementioned pair of socks in her hands. "All these years that I've known her, she's _always_ sang. Finn says that when he 'found' her, she was humming under her breath and she did so the entire time we were in New York."

"Because she was nervous?"

"She likes to sing as it is but I'm sure the fact that she was lost in a new country had something to do with it."

Sitting up a little straighter, she clears her throat as she glances back towards the kitchen. "Does she talk about her family a lot," Quinn asks softly, noticing that Carol's hands fumble and she drops a stitch.

"We used to try asking but she would never offer much. I assume she came from a very well off family. She knew enough English to get her by and then some and she came over with a substantial amount of money."

Hazel eyes focus on the stitch Carol's working to redo. "She doesn't talk about her family ever?"

Carol shakes her head. "She's spoken of her dad, an aunt, the uncle who was supposed to take her, and another woman. It's not her mother but she'll never say who she is exactly." She finds her groove again but continues to knit at a much slower pace than before. "She'll always mention them on accident. We'll be talking about something, a food or a place or an act, and she'll mention how so and so would do this and that. She always catches herself before she says too much though. Afterwards, she always closes up and retreats to her room for a while." She lets out a tired sigh, setting down her needles and pushing her hair away from her face. "I understand _why_ she doesn't tell us, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't worry me."

Quinn nods, hands unconsciously stretching out protectively on her stomach. "Did she transition well? Moving here and living with your family? I always feel so insensitive and nosy if I ask her and I really only know what she tells me."

"I think she did. I kept her home for the first year. Worked with her on her English until she could handle a school setting. She is _so_ smart, Quinn. Was able to tutor Finn too. I love my son but that boy is more brawn than brains." They both hear the sink start to drain and Carol picks back up her knitting needles. "She never made a lot of friends, especially not any girl friends, so the fact that you two are close really makes me happy. And I know she doesn't talk much about her past but that doesn't mean she doesn't love you any less." Carol sighs again, rolling her wrist before she starts knitting again. "I was really worried that she'd never leave the house once Finn left. Rachel's always been very outgoing but she can still be very timid at times."

Quinn nods thoughtfully and starts to say something when Rachel bound into the room with Beth on her hip.


	3. Chapter 3

Saturdays are perhaps Quinn's favorite day of the week. Rachel doesn't have to work and Quinn doesn't have to run off to church like she has to on Sundays, so they spend the whole day together. Rachel always, fruitlessly, tries all morning to get Quinn to stop cleaning but eventually Rachel gives up. Before Quinn knows it though, Rachel's right beside her, weeding one half of the garden or taking down the curtains that Quinn plans to wash while the blonde dusts the fireplace. Rachel always makes it so that by the afternoon, Quinn is forced to relax because all her chores are done.

On this particular Saturday, Beth is asleep in her room while they finish up the laundry. The two women stand on either side of Quinn's bed, a clean white sheet in her hands. She tosses one side to Rachel, wincing briefly as she bends forward to do it.

"Quinn, go sit down! I told you that if you're in pain you need to stop what you're doing and leave whatever you need done for me." Rachel drops her side of the sheet and crawls across the mattress so she can take the sheet from the blonde.

"I'm pregnant, Rachel. Something is always gonna hurt until I give birth." Rachel shakes her head and gets off the bed. She puts her hand on the small of Quinn's back, leading her over to the chair at Quinn's vanity.

"I wish you'd let me do your chores, Quinn. You know I don't mind it." Rachel makes quick work of putting the sheet on the bed, something that recently has been taking Quinn a minute or two to do. It's not that she's so pregnant that she's useless (she's only halfway through her second trimester). Her belly is barely in the way but her back aches from everything she does all day. Between lifting Beth up and down, washing dishes, and gardening, she's surprised her back hasn't broken yet! But if there's one thing Quinn hates, it is to be considered useless and so she shakes her head adamantly.

"I'm perfectly capable of putting a new sheet on the bed. I'm perfectly capable of doing a lot of things."

Rachel nods as she tosses the blanket on to the bed, tucking the ends under the mattress. "I know you are, liebling, but you don't have to do everything. Like tending to your garden." Quinn busies herself with putting everything back in order on her vanity, yawning right before she's about to protest. "And I _know_ that that is something you have to do each day. Gardens are a lot of work and a large portion of your meals are growing out there. But that's something you can leave for me to do. It leaves you in pain on almost every part of your body and that's not healthy for you or the baby, nor is it beneficial to Beth to have you all achy." Rachel grabs the pillows from the trunk at the foot of the bed and slips them into their new cases. "Look at how tired you are. You're doing too much, Quinn."

Quinn shakes her head, spinning a perfume bottle on its edge as she yawns again. "I haven't been sleeping very well, that's all. And shouldn't I get used to being tired? There is going to be a newborn in the house soon enough."

"That means you should be getting as much rest as you can _now_ ," Rachel replies, walking over to the blonde. Quinn turns in her seat, setting her perfume back in line with the others. Rachel sighs and cups Quinn's cheek. "We're all done with chores. How about you lay down for a little while?"

"But what will you do? And what if Beth wakes up?" Rachel's hand drops and trails its way down Quinn's arm before she grabs on to Quinn's wrist.

"I'll read or something. And if Beth wakes up, then I'll entertain her while you sleep." She tugs on Quinn's wrist until Quinn stands up and then Rachel takes her over to the bed.

Quinn sighs but gets on the bed anyway, turning to grab Rachel's wrist just as she's about to walk away. "Stay with me for a bit?" Rachel nods and sits down at the foot of the bed before scooting closer once Quinn's settled. It takes Quinn a while to get comfortable. Normally, Quinn can't stand to lay on her back, it's the only thing that, for now, helps her whole body relax. Rachel takes Quinn's shoes off for her and then begins massaging them even though Quinn tells Rachel time and time again that she thinks her feet are appalling.

"You have very cute feet. And they do so much that they deserve a massage every once in a while," Rachel responds with a grin. Quinn lets out a breath before letting her eyes close. It's silent for quite some time (Quinn only realizes this because the clock downstairs chimes twice and then once more 30 minutes later) before Rachel speaks again. "Quinn?"

"Hm?"

"Have you ever thought about what you would've done if you hadn't had Beth? What you'd be doing now if we hadn't met?" Quinn opens her eyes, an eyebrow arching in confusion and question. She thinks Rachel might blush but the brunette shakes her head, her chin angling even more towards her chest. "Never mind. That was a stupid question."

Quinn shakes her head. "Come here," she says softly, motioning for Rachel to come lay by her. "It's not a stupid question at all." Quinn takes Rachel's hand as soon as she can, her thumb running over tan skin slowly, drinking in the question. "If I hadn't had Beth I don't think I'd be here… I certainly wouldn't be with Noah."

"Why do you say that? You love him don't you?"

Quinn smiles softly and nods. "I do. But a lot of that came from having Beth. Noah was never supposed to be around for very long. At least not in a romantic manner."

Rachel squeezes her hand and stays silent for a while. She keeps her gaze on Quinn's stretched stomach and she notices that the blonde's breathing has evened out. She glances up at Quinn's face and is met with closed eyes. "What if you hadn't met me," Rachel whispers, brown eyes falling back to swollen abdomen.

"I wouldn't be half as happy as I am now," Quinn murmurs, slowly shifting her weight as she turns on to her side. Rachel looks at Quinn's small smile and tired eyes blinking at her in long spaces. Her free hand comes up to cup Rachel's cheek, smiling a little wider when the brunette leans into her touch. Quinn runs her thumb over tan skin before letting her hand fall away, fingers lightly tracing Rachel's lips before the touch disappears and Quinn's eyes close again.

Rachel spends the duration of Quinn's nap with her fingers ghosting over her lips, committing the feeling to her memory.

* * *

Sunday is the only day Quinn sees her father. It's common for her mother to stop by during the week, even more common for her sister to stop by, but this church is the only place besides his house that she's seen her father for the past two years.

He nods at her politely as she sits down at the end of the pew, Beth already squirming to get to her grandfather. Quinn sighs tiredly before she releases her daughter, Beth walking unsteadily to Russell's outstretched arms. Instead of his usual stony façade, he smiles widely at the little girl who looks exactly like his ruined daughter. Quinn is pretty sure she and Noah would've been out of luck had Beth looked anything like Noah; she's certain her parents only help them because they think they can fix the mistakes they made with her via Beth.

The service doesn't start for another ten minutes, leaving her to talk to various members of the congregation (all of whom will eye her stomach cautiously before asking about Beth) and probably have the talk with her father that she's been dreading.

When her sister came over yesterday, she mentioned that Daddy was trying to reconfigure the finances so that he could make sure everyone didn't feel the pinch of rationing. Her sister's voice had a bit of bite to it then but Quinn simply asked her if she wanted anymore tea. She knows that her sister hates how much their parents help her and how very little they do for her sister's family. Quinn's tried to explain that even if she did want the help (which she by no means ever asked for monetary help without the intention of paying them back), their situations are _very_ different (Leah's husband has a wealthy family himself and owns _two_ grocery stores. Plus, her sister doesn't have any children). But Leah just goes into a rant about how selfish Quinn is.

Whatever the case, she doesn't want to talk to her dad _ever_. The last time they had a conversation that extended beyond polite 'hello's and Sunday lunch chit chat (which doesn't include actual important things and _never_ includes Noah) was when she needed to borrow $200 because Noah dropped his paycheck on the way home from work. He hadn't even realized it until he got home and, without that money, they weren't going to be able to pay for anything they needed that month. Her father yelled at her for an _hour_ , screaming about how she had ruined her life by sinning with that kike and how much of a complete screw up was. He gave her the money eventually and when she finally got back home she cried for three hours (and had to force Noah to stay home and not go over to her parents' and mess things up even more).

"Quinnie." She blinks twice, breaking her blank gaze at the altar before turning to Mrs. Whitman. She smiles widely at the old woman, moving Beth's coat and her purse to her lap so that she can sit down.

"How are you, Mrs. Whitman," Quinn asks as the woman shakes her head at the freed seat. Mrs. Whitman worked at the library Quinn used to frequent before she got pregnant and never treated Quinn any different when her stomach started to swell.

"Tired, naturally," she says with a wink. "My grandson is waiting for me at my usual spot, so I can't sit." Quinn glances back a few rows and waves at the eight year old boy who blushes before waving back. "I just wanted to give these to you. I started working on them when I noticed your belly and finally finished them this week." She hands over a stack of three knitted blankets, all of the colors neutral (green, yellow, and white). Quinn's smile takes up her entire face as she unfolds the blankets to look at them carefully.

"Thank you so much! These are beautiful."

"You're very welcome, m'dear. I made Beth three and so it's only fair I make three for this baby." The people around them start settling into their seats and Mrs. Whitman pats her on the shoulder. "I better go sit down. Congratulations again, dear!"

Quinn folds the blankets neatly as her father sits down next to her, Beth perched on his knee. "Are you doing anything after church, Quinn?" This is his backwards way of telling her she'll be staying to talk to him.

"Nothing that can't be done a little later, Daddy."

He doesn't smile, just gives her a curt nod before turning his attention to the altar.

* * *

When they all exit the chapel, Beth now in Judy's arms, her father holds his arm out for her like the nice gentleman everyone thinks he is. She loops her arm through his, sighing inwardly as she watches her mother walk off with her daughter. "Do you know when Noah's supposed to return," he asks, waving at the preacher and his wife as they walk by.

"I'm not sure… It was a draft, Daddy." He glares down at her, upset with the way she answered. "Shouldn't we sit down? The doctor says it's bad for you to be standing for long periods of time and you've already done so much today."

"I can handle a short walk, Quinnie." She glances down at his left leg, eyeing the way he limps carefully. Her father has a habit of going past his limit (hence the bullet that's still rolling around somewhere near his knee cap) and her mother would kill her if he collapsed at church. "My point was that you have _another_ baby on the way and Noah's wages barely cover your family _now_. How're you going to pay for another mouth to feed? Another back to clothe?"

"I can scrimp in certain places. I'll start growing some more vegetables and Beth can do with the toys she has. I'll be able to manage until Noah gets back." She tucks her hair behind her ears after her father drops her arm.

"I'm not going to let you scrimp, Quinn, even if this was avoidable," he says once he stands to face her. "How much more a month will you need?"

"I don't need money, Daddy. I don't even need what you're giving me now."

"An extra $50? $70?" He never hears anything she says.

"Daddy, I don't need it." He shakes his head and reaches into his coat pocket. He tears off the check he already wrote up and holds it out. She stares at it blankly for a moment, only taking it when her father grunts and looks at her sharply. "Thank you," she lies, holding the paper in her hands delicately even though she wants nothing more than to crumple it.

"C'mon. Your mother's making pot roast for lunch." Quinn nods, following behind her father like the dutiful daughter she still is. She idly wonders if she'll ever be able to stand up to her parents. She has a very strong feeling that she'll always be some how indebted to them, whether they continue to provide her with monetary support or not.

After all, her father is a man who looks after and keeps his own in line (a line that is thin and straight and so it is very easy to become misguided) forever. All the Fabray women have gone off the path he's set for them before (her mother with her cooking, her sister being barren, and Quinn herself with the babies and Jewish husband) and she notices as he takes Beth from her mother's arms, that he's trying just as hard to make Beth perfect. Beth's predisposed to amount to nothing in her father's eyes, what with her father being Jewish and, for lack of a better word, a complete screw up for a mother, but he thinks that with the right amount of guidance, Beth'll surpass all the other women in her father's life. She'll grow to be the perfect woman, the perfect wife, one who will wait until proper age to marry and remain pure till then. She'll bear gorgeous children who will all be Catholic (because, in Russell's eyes, there is no way that Beth will be raised in a predominately Jewish way nor would she attempt that with her own children) and never disappoint Grandpa Fabray.

She watches as Russell lectures Beth who had been fighting to be put down. There are tears on the little girl's cheeks and Quinn sighs as she tightens her grip on the gloves in her hands. Her daughter isn't even two and Russell is already molding her into something Quinn would never expect of her. Beth is already so vastly different from the people around her. She listens to no one and is the most independent person Quinn has ever encountered. Quinn can't even picture Beth as a housewife. She can't picture Beth even considering the life Quinn's come to live.

She wonders how long it will take her father to realize this.

* * *

To say Quinn is miserable would be an understatement. For whatever reason, this pregnancy is _hard_ on her body, ten times harder than when she was pregnant with Beth. Rachel keeps telling her it's going to be a boy and that's why he's so active and she's so tired.

Whatever the case, Quinn is _tired_ and all around run down by the time she enters her 6th month. Rachel's been doing what she can after work and some days, Quinn will open the door and find Carol on her doorstep. "Rachel told me you've been feeling more tired than normal lately so I thought I'd bring you lunch and maybe get some things done around the house so you can rest." Quinn always smiles gratefully and accepts the lunch before sending Carol home. Rachel always lectures her for not letting Carol help clean but then Quinn points out that by bringing by lunch, Quinn didn't have to cook or clean up dishes which is enough help for her.

Rachel shakes her head every night when she comes home from work. "One of these days I'm going to tie you to a chair so you'll take a day off," she says as Quinn watches her from the doorway of the bathroom. Rachel scrubs away at her face over the sink and when she's finally clean, she takes one of the dresses she's come to leave at the house from Quinn.

"I'm _fine,_ Rachel."

But with each passing day, it gets harder for her to do certain things. Gardening is out of the question now and she can't get to any cleaning that needs to be done in any high places. And so more and more she relinquishes some of her duties to Rachel so that she can elevate her swollen feet for a little while.

Today, she decides to take an extra long bath since Rachel is here to clean up dinner and do all the cleaning Quinn didn't get to. Beth's already in bed, she's been stubbornly fighting off a cold and so she fell asleep quickly after dinner, but Quinn still has the bathroom door cracked in case her daughter wakes up.

Quinn lets out a breath, sitting up a little straighter in the tub so that her back rests flat against the wall of the bath. She looks down at her large stomach that is slowly gaining dark stretch marks. The ones she had left over from Beth hadn't been too horrible, only a few silvery lines running from her belly button to the top of her pelvis and one or two on the left side of her stomach. But now that her stomach is being stretched again, the once faint lines are getting darker and wider, marring her pale skin with deep reddish brown streaks. She tilts her head to the side as she runs her index finger over each line, shivering when she trails down the path toward her pelvis.

With her first pregnancy, everything was a little easier. She lived with the Puckermans until about a month before she gave birth. The only thing she really did all day was cook (Mrs. Puckerman was appalled when she came in to the house and told her she couldn't cook. "There is no way you're going to be able to take care of a family without knowing how to make _something_ ," she exclaimed as she dragged Quinn into the kitchen) and do very minimal housework. She honestly spent most of her day walking Noah's sister Jenna to and from school and then helping her with her school work once they got home. Every night she would do the dinner dishes and clean the room she shared with Noah. Compared to everything she does now, she might as well have been spending her entire first pregnancy in bed.

And it helped that Noah was always there. He was there to rub her feet or make her laugh or sneak some pork into the house for her. He would help her in and out of the tub once she got too big (or whenever he wanted an excuse to see her naked). He would always sing to her belly which would make her feel less horrible about the situation they were in and he told her 'I love you' every single day (which was the first time that'd ever happened to her in her entire 16 years of life).

She sighs heavily, letting herself sink further into the now warm water. She misses her husband. She's tired of not having him here to take care of her and she feels guilty that Rachel's become her savior of sorts because she can't handle family life without a husband. Gosh, she feels guilty for doing this to Rachel. The brunette is still so young and deserved to go out and do fun things. She deserved to spend her Saturdays going to the movies or taking a walk in the park. She deserved to go to the beach or travel or just do something fun without always worrying if Quinn was alright or if Quinn was working herself too hard. For goodness sakes, Rachel comes over after a long day at work to help Quinn do things she's simply too tired to do. She loves that Rachel cares enough to do that for her (lord knows that not a lot of people actually care for Quinn) and Quinn's almost considered telling Rachel not to bother with some of the house work. But Quinn knows it'll only bother her if everything isn't dusted or if the laundry doesn't get done the day it gets dirty. And so Quinn's stuck in this in between area where she doesn't know what she should do and what she shouldn't.

Quinn knows that even if Noah was here, she'd still be doing the bulk of the housework (her husband was a wonderful man and helped out occasionally but never to the extent that Rachel does) which makes her even more thankful than she already is for the new brunette in her life. But the simple act of having Noah close, she realizes now, calms her down and relaxes her. She never realized just how much she leaned on him and _needed_ him before now. It almost makes her feel guilty for all those times she yelled at him for continuously messing everything up and the fact that she's been watching Rachel a lot more closely than she should.

Quinn sighs and slouches slightly, sinking into the water a little further. When she was pregnant with Beth, Noah touched her _constantly_. He would rest his hands on her stomach and press into it, hoping to get a reaction out of the baby in her belly. He would hold her hand every where they went, squeezing it tightly whenever they would pass by girls who would whisper and giggle about Quinn. And at night when the day was over, he'd strip her of her dress and spend _hours_ touching every inch of her pregnant body. Now that he's gone, her body aches, not only from exertion, but from the need to be touched.

Which brings her back to Rachel.

Before she ever met Rachel, Quinn had never thought of other girls in the manner in which she is now. She'd never let her eyes wander when her friends would change during slumber parties yet she's caught herself on more than one occasion looking at Rachel. First it had been the evening in her sewing room and then when Rachel started changing out of her work clothes, Quinn would find herself lingering outside the bathroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of the brunette in a state of undress. Of course, Quinn would eventually realize what she was doing, mutter a few Hail Marys under her breath, and go back to whatever she was doing before. But that didn't change the fact that Quinn _wanted_ to see Rachel in a manner that was much more than friendly or the fact that many nights Quinn would lay down, wishing with all her might that Noah _or_ Rachel was there to touch her.

There's a knock on the door and Quinn quickly scoops some water into her hands, wetting her face so that it looks a little less like she was crying (she hadn't even realized that she started crying) . "Come in," she says and Rachel slips into the bathroom, two clean towels in her arms.

"I brought you some fresh towels and your robe," Rachel says with a small smile, setting them on the bench just behind the tub.

"Thank you." Quinn glances at Rachel over her shoulder and it's then that Rachel's smile drops.

"Were you crying?"

Quinn shakes her head as she pushes herself up, sitting up straight once again. "I'm just hormonal and thinking too much. I'm fine."

"You say that much too often for it to be true, Quinn," Rachel says softly and Quinn turns her head around so that she can no longer see the brunette. Carefully, Rachel sits down on the bench behind Quinn, tan hands coming to rest on her shoulders. "Is this okay?" Quinn chews on her bottom lip as she nods, shivering slightly when Rachel's hands spread over her shoulders, thumbs digging in to the knot Quinn has in between her shoulder blades. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing. I'm just all over the place."

"Is it about Noah," Rachel asks, smiling slightly when she feels Quinn go slack under her fingers.

"Partly… It's strange not being able to touch him or talk to him or do anything with him." Quinn laughs a little, bringing her hands up to cover her face. "You know, before he left, I would think of what it would be like if he were gone and I'd actually smile at all the possibilities. And I blamed him a lot for everything that happened. Even things that weren't his fault. Doesn't that make me such a horrible person?"

Rachel shakes her head. "That doesn't make you a horrible person. You just didn't know how to handle everything that was happening to you. Your parents kicked you out, you couldn't finish school, your friends abandoned you." She moves Quinn's wet hair over her shoulder as her hands move to tend to the rest of her shoulders.

"He's such a good man though… I don't think I ever _really_ realized it until now. He's been wonderful to me and Beth. He's an _amazing_ father and he genuinely loves me…" Quinn tilts her head slightly, moving her gaze from the plain white wall in front of her to the open window next to the sink. "I love him too but sometimes I wonder if I really do."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think I really loved Noah until after Beth was born and even then, I wasn't too sure. And now, now that he's gone I miss him _so_ much and I worry every time that when I read the paper, his name is going to be on the list of the dead. But at the same time, I remember everything I lost because I slept with him and now you're here and I'm just…" Quinn trails off and Rachel's hands still. She lets out a breath, Rachel squeezing her shoulders as she lifts the plug of the tub with her toes, letting the water slip down the drain. "The water's gone cold."

Rachel stands up and gets ready to leave in order to give Quinn her privacy when the blonde catches her arm, a small "Eep!" escaping Quinn's lips. Rachel turns around to see the blonde crouched over awkwardly, the hand that's not on Rachel's arm clutching desperately to the lip of the tub, one of Quinn's legs stretched near the drain. " _Quinn_!" Rachel retraces her steps and grabs on to Quinn's arms tightly. "This is why I don't like you taking baths when you're home alone. You could've fallen and hurt yourself _and_ the baby."

Quinn finds her footing again, and stands up, clearly embarrassed. "This is the first time I've slipped! And I honestly should've planted my feet better before I started to get out," she says, trying to get her breathing back to normal. Rachel helps her step out of the tub, her eyes remaining on Quinn's face as she does. Once Quinn's feet are securely on the tile ground, Rachel lets go of her and grabs Quinn's robe before holding it open for her. "You do too much for me." Quinn turns back around and Rachel shakes her head, tying Quinn's robe securely over her stomach.

"I don't think that's possible," Rachel says brightly, smiling as she pushes Quinn's hair behind her ears. "You are a wonderful person and you love your husband and your daughter. You're much too hard on yourself sometimes." She hands Quinn a towel to dry her hair with before giving Quinn some time to herself.

* * *

They're in the living room, Quinn on the couch with the curtains in her lap and Rachel at the fireplace, dusting the mantle. Quinn notices the brunette slow down as she runs an old rag over Quinn's wedding photo. "You don't look very happy in this," Rachel observes and Quinn sighs as she threads the metal rod through the curtain loops. Honestly, neither she nor Noah look happy in their wedding portrait. Noah looked clearly irritated with his jaw locked and an overall pissed off expression on his face. Quinn herself was practically frowning, her arm looped half-heartedly with Noah's.

"I wasn't. My parents had just started talking to me a few days prior, Noah was fighting with his mother because we weren't having a Jewish wedding, my dad was upset that we weren't being married by a Catholic priest, Beth was dancing on my bladder, and Jenna had stomped on the pastor's foot so he was hopping in pain behind my mother as she took the picture."

Rachel lets a small smile play on her face as she sets the picture back on the mantle. "I'm surprised you didn't have a big wedding. Your family seems like the type to insist it."

"Well they didn't want very many people to know I was already pregnant and, by that point, there really wasn't any hiding it. Though my parents did briefly bring it up and I refused to have an entirely Catholic wedding because it wasn't fair to Noah and his family... Everyone just sort of settled on finding _anyone_ who would marry us and a dinner at my parents' house." Quinn's hands pause, thinking back to the equally horrible dinner. Her mother made _ham_ , her father threw the mashed potatoes out, Mrs. Puckerman kept complaining about how much of a mistake this was, and Jenna and Nana Puckerman were chatting to one another in Yiddish loudly. "The only part of my wedding day that I actually look back on in fondness is that night. I could've done without the rest."

Rachel finishes wiping down the mantle and then goes to sit beside Quinn, tossing the dirty rag on to the side table. "I'm sorry your wedding day was crummy. At least Noah made it worth it."

Quinn ducks her head down a bit, her hair falling over her shoulders and hiding the light blush on her face. "Noah is quite good when it comes to things like that. Well… that really should be obvious now shouldn't it?" She pats her rounded stomach as she hands Rachel one of the finished curtain rods.

"Was it different," Rachel asks softly, causing Quinn to look up at her with an arched brow. "The sex. Was it different from when you were dating?" The blonde swallows hard, left hand going up to fiddle with her cross, her blush now evident on her cheeks. "Is that something I'm not supposed to ask about?"

Quinn shakes her head, fingers running over the smooth metal against her chest. "I, um, no. I mean, I had friends who would sort of talk about these sort of, um, things. But I never… This isn't really something I was raised to be vocal about… This is what my mother would consider unladylike."

"My sincere apologies, Quinn. I'm much too curious for my own good. It's just that so many women still wait until they're married to experience that and the ones that don't, don't really talk about the fact that they didn't wait." Rachel takes another rod from Quinn, easing on to her tiptoes carefully, trying not to depress the couch cushions too much.

It's silent for a moment or two, Quinn threading the final curtain rod for the living room while Rachel puts them back up. " _That_ time was different," Quinn whispers, voice cracking slightly.

"What?"

She clears her throat as Rachel sits back down carefully. " _That_ night was different. Before that it was always nice, I suppose. We didn't do that a lot, though as my pregnancy furthered it did become a bit, more, um, frequent. And ever since we got married it's been wonderful as well. I'm sure my mother would call it excessive, but it's never been like _that_ ," Quinn answers, trying with all her might to keep a smile off her face. "That day was _so_ horrible and, without me having to say a word, Noah took my hand and led me out of the house, to his truck, and to his mother's house. He locked us in, closed every curtain and we made love for _hours_." She shrugs slightly and releases a long breath. "He promised me that our new family would be ten times better than our old ones and that we would be a million times happier. He'd told me all that before and has since but I think the only time I've ever believed him was that night."

"That sounds wonderful, Quinn," Rachel responds, letting her hand fall on the blonde's knee before she gives it a small squeeze. "You are very lucky to have a man like Noah."

A guarded smile finds its way on to Quinn's face as she places her hand on top of Rachel's, lacing their fingers together. "Rachel… Why did you start dating Finn?" She's asked before and has only been met with silence, the brunette eventually clearing her throat and changing the subject. But Quinn is so unbelievably curious about Rachel's relationship with the man who saved her that she can't help herself from asking more and more about him.

"I don't really want to talk about that." Rachel untangles herself from Quinn and grabs the laundry basket that sits on the opposite side of the blonde's legs. Rachel walks into the formal dining room and begins pulling out the curtains that hang over the large window as Quinn follows her.

"Why won't you ever talk about Finn like I talk about Noah," Quinn asks, leaning into the door frame as her arms cross above her stomach. Rachel always mentions Finn briefly, much like her family, and when she does go a little bit more in depth, she always seems to be critiquing the tall man. As a matter of fact, the most Quinn's ever heard about Finn was when she went over to Carol's for dinner.

"I don't want to talk about this, Quinn," Rachel answers, her voice void of any sing-song quality it had before. Rachel focuses on getting the curtains back on the rod as Quinn moves closer to her. She stops beside the brunette, stretched stomach barely skimming the side of Rachel's dress.

"I don't want to upset you, Rachel," Quinn says softly, bringing a hand up to push Rachel's unrestricted hair behind her ear. "I just want to know more about you… More about what you were like before I met you. And I want to make sure that you aren't uncomfortable by how much I talk about Noah. I just…" Quinn trails off because she's not sure she knows what she's trying to say. It has been blindingly obvious to Quinn since that day at the train station that she likes Rachel much more than she should. It's not to say that Quinn hates how flustered she gets every time Rachel touches her or looks at her in a certain way, it's just that Quinn doesn't know what to make of it. Her entire life she's been taught that men and women were made for one another and that anyone who did or believed otherwise, were sinners. And then, of course, there was Noah. It took a long time for Quinn to realize that she loved her husband but Quinn _knows_ that she does. She loves that man with all of her heart now. But she's not really sure that's possible if she spends half her time thinking about Rachel in the same way she thinks of him.

Quinn sighs, letting her hand drop to Rachel's shoulder. She wants to know if Rachel is just as confused and lost in this as she is. "Will you tell me about Finn?"

"You don't make me uncomfortable when you talk of, Noah," Rachel answers quietly, clearing her throat as she threads the second curtain on to the long rod. "I find it wonderful that you have him." Rachel takes a deep breath and rolls back her shoulders. "I don't talk about Finn because it makes me feel very guilty and I had enough of that when I was home. Jewish women will guilt you until you're dead, Quinn." The corners of their lips turn upward before Rachel's fall, her eyes focused on smoothing out the fresh curtains. "I only started dating Finn because I felt like I owed him that." Quinn takes the fabric from Rachel's hands silently, allowing the curtains to begin to wrinkle on the table while she turns Rachel to face her. "He saved me from this scary country and protected me every step of the way. He's a wonderful boy but I don't know if I necessarily _liked_ him when he asked me to be his girlfriend. I know that I didn't _want_ to be his girlfriend but how could I say no? He gave me everything I have. "

Quinn rolls her eyes as her smile gets a little bigger. "Is that all? I've told you that I had no plans of staying with my husband when I was dating him and that it took me a very long time to love him."

"It's very different from what you and Noah have," Rachel insists, hands coming up to rest on the stomach that's nearly pressed against her. "I'm not even sure I love Finn _now_. He's off risking his life, fighting people who would very much like to see me _dead_ , and I have to sit here, knowing I lied to him when I told him I loved him!" Rachel turns away from Quinn, wiping her cheeks roughly before grabbing the curtain rod in her hands. Rachel walks over to the window and steps on to the chair she left there, carefully placing the curtains back up. "Finn is an amazing man and I _should_ love him. Did you know that every Friday he'd somehow have enough money to get us into a movie? I'm not quite sure how he always found the spare change to get us in but he did it because he knew how much I loved all the glamour of Hollywood… And at least once a week he'd bring Carol and me flowers… How can I _not_ love that, Quinn? Does that mean that there's something wrong with _me_ then?"

Quinn shakes her head sternly, walking over to Rachel and clutching on to the skirt of her dress. "Do _not_ say things like that! There is _nothing_ wrong with you, Rachel. Not one damn thing is wrong with you and there never will be." Quinn tugs on the girl's dress and backs up, allowing Rachel to step off the chair and get back on solid ground. "It's okay that you don't know if you love him," she says, holding Rachel's cheeks in her hands as her fingers work to brush away the fallen tears. "Though it might not be true, I think that Finn would have rather heard that than anything else before he left. Even if it was a lie." Rachel sniffs and almost hiccups, trying to calm herself down by taking deep breaths. Quinn pushes Rachel's hair back once more, her hands coming to rest on the brunette's neck. "Finn sounds ten times nicer than Noah was when we were dating."

Rachel lets out a strangled laugh before she sniffs again. "Finn was raised to be a very polite gentleman."

"So was Noah but he was every parent's nightmare… Well, for my parents he might as well have been the Devil." Rachel laughs again and a small smile returns to Quinn's face. "Did you know that Noah has never brought me flowers?"

"Really?"

Quinn shakes her head. "Not once." Quinn lets her forehead fall against the other girl's, closing her eyes and listening to the way Rachel's breathing eventually evens out. When she reopens her eyes, she finds that Rachel's are no longer filled with tears though they still remain red rimmed. "Why do you think you don't love him? You've said before that you did… Love him, that is."

"I'm perfectly content to leave him, Quinn. He's always encouraged me to pursue my singing dreams. He's even told me that he thinks I'd be a wonderful actress. That I could be the next Betty Grable. But I know that's not what _he_ wants. He wants to stay here. Wants to stay by his mom and wants his kids to grow up in the same town that he did. I would never give my dreams up for him but I know he'd do it in a heartbeat for me. That sounds awfully one sided to me."

"You said that you wouldn't let him do that… That means that you love him, dear. You would rather he be happy without you than miserable with you. To me, that's love."

"Then how come it doesn't feel like I do," she asks and the only thing Quinn can think to do is shrug. "Why is it that I don't feel like I love him, but I think that I could love _you_?"

Quinn bites her lip. Never in her life has she been so relieved and so scared at the exact same time. She opens her mouth to say something, _anything_ that has been on the tip of her tongue for months (like how she feels the exact same way) but she can't find the right words so she decides for the second time in her life to take the first piece of advice Noah ever gave her.

Don't think, just do.

Quinn brings Rachel towards her, hands clutching her nervously as she presses their lips together firmly before pulling Rachel's bottom lip between hers. It is completely different from kissing Noah. Rachel's lips are soft against hers and it takes the brunette a moment before she starts kissing back. Rachel lets Quinn continue to take the lead, something Noah has never done.

Quinn pulls away first, breathing deep and blinking slowly as Rachel looks back at her with swollen lips. The blonde takes a step back and Rachel tries to catch the other girl's arms before she can move too far away. Quinn fidgets nervously as she turns on her heels, leaving Rachel helplessly in front of the window. She glances at the grandfather clock and then looks past Rachel and out the window. "Let's go do something fun," Quinn says uneasily, finally looking at Rachel who stares back at her wide eyed. Rachel's eyebrows furrow and her eyes tear up again, her mouth opening to say _something_ that is probably reminiscent of ' _That_ is what you have to say?' Quinn shakes her head and takes Rachel's hands in hers. "You're always saying that I need to relax and do things for myself, so lets do it. Let's go to the park or go see a movie… Let's have fun before the baby is born or I'm too tired to get off the couch." She squeezes Rachel's hands in emphasis and she watches as the other girl's face relaxes. She's still looking at Quinn like she doesn't know what to make of this and the blonde sighs. "Please?"

Rachel turns to look out the window before she nods.

* * *

Quinn decides that Rachel wanted to see a movie for three reasons. One, Rachel has an almost unnatural obsession with Bette Davis. Two, she's probably upset and confused about everything (something Quinn can't fault her for at all since she was the one who made a mess of things). And three, she probably needs a pick me up after what happened in the house.

Quinn sits uncomfortably next to Rachel who has Beth on her lap, both girls staring up at the screen with sparkling eyes. They both wear huge grins, something that makes Quinn smile despite the fact that the theater seats feel like they dig in to every part of her body.

She doesn't actually watch most of the movie (she hadn't even wanted to see it) and instead watches her girls' reactions to everything that's happening on the screen. Beth bounces up and down excitedly on Rachel's lap when there's dancing and Rachel sings along quietly in Beth's ear during the musical numbers.

It's when Quinn's watching them that she understands _completely_ why Finn always took Rachel to the movies. The look Rachel gets on her face is probably the best thing in the world.

By the time the movie is over, Rachel is no longer wearing the indifferent face she wore on the walk to town, nor is she staying as far away from Quinn as possible without seeming rude. "That was an excellent movie," Rachel exclaims as they leave the theater, Beth squirming uncomfortably on her hip. "All the singing and dancing and wonderful clothes." Rachel sets Beth down and twirls her around. Quinn smiles down at her daughter who giggles and loses her balance after spinning, causing her to fall against her mother's legs. Quinn runs a hand through Beth's curls which causes Beth to look up at Quinn with a smile.

"Would you like to walk," Quinn asks and Beth nods excitedly as she pushes herself off of Quinn's legs, both of her hands raised so that each woman can take one.

"Did you enjoy the movie, Quinn?"

She glances over at Rachel who seems genuinely curious about what she thought. "I didn't pay very much attention to it. The baby kept moving and I couldn't get very comfortable."

The brunette frowns as she takes Beth's hand, the three of them beginning the walk down the street. "I didn't even think about how uncomfortable it would be for you. I'm sorry, Quinn. Had I realized that, I wouldn't have even suggested it."

Quinn shakes her head. "It was worth it to see you two. I swear you and Beth were making the same faces."

Rachel lets a small smile creep on to her face and she tucks some hair behind her ear. "What would you like to do now? We've done something fun for Beth and I and this was an outing for you."

"It's nice to just be out. It's a beautiful day what with the breeze and all."

"Would you like to go to the park? Granted that's really more for Beth than anything."

Quinn looks down at her daughter who keeps her head down and hops over every crack they pass on the sidewalk. "I think that would be really nice. Maybe we can stop back at the house. I'll make a few sandwiches and snacks and we can have a small picnic while we're there?"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Quinn." Rachel smiles and looks at her in that way she'd begun to before Quinn freaked out in the dining room. She looks at Quinn like she accepts and wants every part of her. It makes Quinn take a deep breath and feel everything swell up in her chest once more before she exhales.

* * *

"You know," Quinn starts, easing herself on to a swing, her eyes studying the chains that will be holding her up carefully. Once she deems it safe enough to sit down without the structure crumbling under her weight, she looks back at Rachel and continues. "I'll probably never do anything like this again."

"Go to the park," Rachel asks as she sets Beth down on to the swing next to Quinn, instructing the girl to hold on tight to the chains.

"No. I have children. Chances are I'll be coming to parks very often." Quinn kicks at the sand beneath her feet. "I meant taking a day off. Doing something for myself." Rachel puts her hands over Beth's, clutching the chains in her own hands so that when she swings the little girl forward, Beth doesn't fly off. "Once Noah comes home, I'll be back to being Mrs. Puckerman until I die."

Rachel glances at her sadly as she pushes Beth. "You don't know that, Quinn. Women are always advancing in the world. We can vote here after all. And I happen to think that even though women are dutiful wives like yourself, they aren't happy with that. I'll bet you that women will start doing more things for themselves very soon."

Quinn takes her feet off the ground, causing her to swing opposite of Beth. "I don't think so, Rachel. We're in the middle of a war. Once our men come home, we'll be expected to pop out even more babies than before. And who has to take care of the children? Certainly not the men."

"I don't think that's very fair," Rachel replies as Quinn settles her feet on the sand below her once again.

"None of it is fair Rachel, but it's how it is." Quinn shrugs because she really has come to accept this. Rachel has done her best to bring out another side of her and she's realized that there is more to her. Quinn would love to just decide in the middle of cooking dinner that she doesn't want to cook and go and read a book. Or just get in a car and drive as far away as possible. Maybe head east to New York and see everything there. Maybe head all the way west to California and dip her feet in the ocean. But that will never happen (partly because she doesn't even know how to drive which is why Noah's truck has been sitting in the driveway collecting dust) since her life is here and Noah would never be able to handle everything on his own. And then, of course, there is always what her parents would think of her. She's fairly certain her father would disown her _again_ and her mother would tell her that she isn't acting like a woman at all.

She does loves the people who are in her life (like her husband and daughter) but she's far from content with it. She doesn't like cleaning but she does it because she is rather cleanly and it's expected from her. She doesn't like cooking but how else would her family eat? She doesn't like never leaving the house unless it's to go to a store or church but she has too many other responsibilities. And she really hates that she still continues to put on a happy face when she feels like screaming. But, at this very moment in time, she can't do anything about it. She wouldn't abandon her family like Noah's father did and besides, what would she do if she left anyway? She's not educated and she's never worked a day in her life. She'd never be able to support herself and being alone has never suited Quinn. "I think Beth will be able to do more than us though." Her daughter is so unbelievably independent and now that Quinn has given in to this (though her daughter is barely the tender age of two), her relationship with Beth is much better than it was before. The little girl still throws fits, after all, what child doesn't? But now that Quinn has allowed the girl to walk more and wander around the house to discover new things, Beth doesn't fight her. Now, bath time is easy and putting the girl to bed is almost a walk in the park. "Beth is going to be the one who shakes things up when she's older."

Rachel lets out a small laugh. "You'll be a heartbreaker too won't you, Beth?" The tiny blonde looks up and Rachel smiles. "You're going to travel everywhere and leave a bunch of poor boys in your wake. And who knows? Maybe you'll become a famous dancer or you'll run for office. Either way, you're going to do amazing things, aren't you? You won't get stuck in some mundrum life."

Beth tilts her head in a confused manner before looking out at the park around her. Quinn sighs and lets herself swing once more before she gets up (she's much too afraid of falling to swing like she used to when she was a young girl). "It's too late for me but Beth will make up for it." Rachel goes back to swinging the small girl back and forth, loosening her hands once she's sure Beth won't let go as Quinn walks up beside her. "We're all going to be okay, right?"

Rachel turns her head to look at Quinn wearily. The blonde knows that everything is going to be different (their men will return home and the baby will be here _soon_ ) and that everything they've done these past few months won't matter anymore. Quinn will go back to her mundane life that she'll accept but won't like and Rachel will have to decide whether or not she'll continue her life with Finn. But at the end of the day, they'll be okay… At least, Quinn hopes they'll be.

"Yes…" Rachel clears her throat and refocuses on pushing Beth on the swing. "We'll all be okay."

* * *

There is absolutely nothing unusual about this morning. Quinn wakes up shortly before Beth, her back aching from her large stomach and a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. It's getting warmer already and even though it's only June, the extra weight she's carrying makes her feel like she's on fire most of the day. She goes into the bathroom and washes her face before brushing her teeth. She goes back in to her room and sits down at her vanity to get ready for the day. She puts on a little make up (she has no plans of going anywhere today but still, a Fabray woman must always look put together) and then does her hair. She finishes buttoning her dress just as Beth wakes up and Quinn picks up her daughter and takes her down stairs.

By the time they reach the bottom of the stairs, Beth is itching to get out of Quinn's arms and the young mother sets her down as soon as they step off the stairs. Beth goes over to her toys in the living room, picking up one of her dolls as she yawns, still more than a little tired. Quinn opens the front door and picks up the morning paper just like she's done every day for the past two years. From there she heads into the kitchen, calling for Beth to follow her. Normally, she'd get started on breakfast but as she's taking some oats out of the canister on the counter, she can't help but look at the still folded paper on the table. She sets down her measuring cup, wiping her hands on her dress (she can hear her mother now saying just how unladylike that was) as she walks over to the table. She taps her painted nails on the wood nervously before she flips the paper open quickly.

Something _big_ happened a few weeks back in Europe and there were an enormous amount of casualties on both sides, so many that the paper said that there were hundreds of bodies that were yet to be identified yet. Each evening she and Rachel would read over the list, both releasing a sigh of relief when they didn't see any names they recognized. Today though, Quinn can't wait for Rachel. For some reason, she feels like she _needs_ to look at the list now. She glances at Beth who smiles at her before turning to the page with the list of fallen soldiers.

Quinn scans the list once, hand nervously playing with the cross around her neck as she looks for 'Puckerman'. She looks over it twice and when she doesn't see her husband's name, she lets out a sigh of relief. Another day alive. For now, at least.

She exhales again with her whole body and turns to go make breakfast when she sees it out of the corner of her eye.

**HUDSON, F.**

She snatches up the newspaper, making sure that she's not mixing up two different lines, that it's not some different Hudson from Lima, Ohio. She even goes as far to make sure that she hasn't accidentally started reading the wounded list before she drops the paper again.

She wasn't misreading anything.

Finn Hudson was dead.


	4. Chapter 4

Quinn doesn't hear from Rachel for four days. She hasn't stopped by during her lunch hour or after work and she doesn't come over at any point on Saturday. On Sunday, Quinn doesn't pay attention to any of the sermon and spends the moment of silence the congregation participates in for the fallen soldiers (there were twenty more men from the Lima area on the deceased list from Friday to Sunday) wondering if Rachel's okay.

Quinn ignores most of her housework and instead sits with Beth in the living room, splitting her time watching Beth play and watching the world move outside the house. She's tried to finish sewing a new dress for Beth and she's tried to finish reading one of the books she started ages ago. It's useless though because she can't stop her mind from wandering (she has the pinpricks on her fingertips to prove it).

On Monday, Quinn can't take it anymore and spends the entire morning cooking. She makes sure Beth is well entertained so that she can make everything she wants to get to. She makes a fresh loaf of bread, some mashed potatoes and a brisket (this is honestly going to set her back a little bit food wise. She'll have to get a little creative with her meals for the rest of the week but it's more than worth it since the only thing she can think to do is cook). She even whips up a pecan pie while she's waiting for the brisket to finish cooking. She taps her finger against her lips as she looks around the house. Maybe she hadn't really thought this all the way through considering she doesn't know how to work Noah's truck that's sat untouched in the driveway since he left.

Eventually, she makes it over to the Hudson household, Beth's stroller filled with the food she prepared and Beth walking next to her. She holds her daughter's hand tightly as they walk up the steps and Quinn sets her daughter on to the porch swing while she gets the food from the stroller. She knocks on the door three times, trying to ignore the fact that there are tons of other baked goods around the door. She waits for a while, even tries knocking again and calling out for Carol, but nobody comes to the door.

She leaves everything on the bench along with a note that the pie needs to be cooked before taking Beth back home.

* * *

Quinn's feet fall heavily on each step as she walks down the stairs. She just put Beth down for her nap and now she doesn't know what to do with herself. She stops on the second to last step, hands coming up to palm her stomach tiredly. From her spot on the stairs, she can see out the living room window. It's completely still outside. No breeze, no birds, no people or cars. Just a flat landscape portrait with no life to it at all.

She really doesn't know what to do. She hasn't cleaned the house in a week (it doesn't look horrible but she can see how dirty the floors are and the dust gathering on the mantel) and she's let the laundry pile up for three days. She could easily pick up a rag and dust or wash the curtains but she finds it hard to pull herself away from the windows. She doesn't want to chance missing Rachel or be caught by surprise when the black government car stops in front of her house.

_God._ She doesn't know what she'd do if she found out Noah was dead now. She has no idea where Rachel's at anymore (if the girl is crying her eyes out or wandering around town aimlessly) and she cannot handle losing her husband too. She wouldn't be able to keep the house or provide _anything_ for her children. She'd have to move back in with her parents and her children would be molded into the perfect Fabrays. She has no doubt that Beth would take Noah's lack of return almost as hard as she would. Even though she is quite young, Beth's a complete daddy's girl and there's no way her little girl wouldn't be depressed. And this new baby would never even meet Noah…

There's a knock on the door and she blinks, breath catching in her throat. She missed it. She was too caught up in her thoughts and now she doesn't know who is at her door. She doesn't get very many visitors and she is terrified of what waits for her on the other side. It takes her three steps to reach the door, hand gripping the warm metal knob. She takes a deep breath, running her free hand over her dress and hair before she pulls open the door. She sighs loudly in relief when she sees that it's just the mailman. "I figured you'd want this as soon as possible so I decided to bring it to the door."

He gives her a small smile and holds out an envelope with the government logo in the corner. She swallows hard, eyes wide as she stares down at the white envelope blankly. She can hear her heart pounding in her ears and it suddenly feels like there's a huge weight on her chest that makes breathing a little harder than normal. "Mrs. Puckerman," he says gently as he takes a step toward her, placing his hand on her shoulder. She blinks and looks up at his face, trying with all of her might to stop herself from tearing up. "If I'm the one delivering the letter, it at least means your husband is alive."

She nods once, swallowing hard before nodding again. She takes the envelope from his hand, clutching it so tight that she can hear the crinkle of the envelope. "Th-thank you," she mutters and she nods a final as he turns to leave. She closes the door behind him before she walks into the living room, sitting down at the desk where everything is put away neatly except for the newspaper clipping of Finn's death. As she looks down at the letter, she realizes she's crumpled half of it into her palm. She lays it down on the old wood and tries to smooth it out before giving up. She runs her index finger under the seam before pulling out the single sheet of paper.

Her eyes scan the words quickly and then a chocked sob escapes her lips. Her boy is coming home. A little broken according to the letter, but at least in one piece.

"Jesus," she breathes out, her cheeks immediately flooded with tears. She has been waiting _anxiously_ for this day ever since she saw Noah walk away from her at the train station. Noah, the one boy who makes her feel like a wonderful person even though she's let down every other person in her life, is finally coming home and she'll be able to touch him, kiss him, speak to him. Their letters between one another have been scarce, something her mother warned her would happen before Noah left, and even when she did have the time to sit down to write her husband, she found herself too preoccupied with Rachel. Her whole body slumps again, suddenly feeling guilty about her relationship with the brunette.

Her husband is off fighting in a war, has been wounded to the point of discharge, and what has she been doing? Playing house with a woman. She shivers and shakes her head. No. Rachel is more than that to her. She's not just someone Quinn is passing the time with. Rachel has done everything Noah has done in a slightly different way and Quinn refuses to sell her time with Rachel short even if she should be loyal to her husband.

Suddenly, Quinn feels a hand on her shoulder, causing the blonde to jump slightly. Rachel tries desperately to smile but can't find it within her to turn the corners of her lips up. Quinn's eyes widen, honestly surprised that Rachel is back in the house with her. "I love you," pours out of Quinn's mouth before she can even process it. But it's the truth and Quinn doesn't think she could have chosen any better words than those.

"Oh, Quinn. I really wish you hadn't said that." Rachel takes her hand off Quinn's shoulder and cups her cheek, thumb stroking pale skin softly.

"But I do. I'm sorry about the way I reacted before. I love you, Rachel." She needs to make sure that Rachel knows this, before more cruel circumstances eventually get in their way and Quinn is left with a million things unsaid.

"Please stop," Rachel says gently. Rachel pulls away from Quinn, turns to roam around the living room with her hands shoved in her pockets.

Quinn feels the tears well up in her eyes again but nods. Rachel's just lost the man who has been her saving grace for the past four years. She doesn't need Quinn acting like a schoolgirl right now. "You're still working," Quinn asks, her voice cracking as she tries not to cry.

Rachel nods, one hand absentmindedly going up to touch the bandana that keeps her hair up and away from her face. "After the second day of being in the house with Carol continuously screaming, I had to leave. I can't be in that house anymore… Too many pictures… Too much of him." She takes a deep breath and Quinn watches as Rachel forces herself to stay composed. "Working forces me to focus on something else."

"I'm so sorry, Rachel… I…" Quinn doesn't know what to say. What _can_ she say? Nothing will make Rachel feel better… Nothing Quinn can say or do will bring Finn back. Quinn is used to people leaving (she was there when Noah's dad left and her own family ostracized her) but she's not used to people dying. As a matter of fact, Quinn's never even been to a funeral. She is completely useless right now and it makes her heart hurt even more.

"I was going to marry him." Rachel's voice cracks and she turns away from Quinn quickly when it does. "I thought about what you said that day when we went to the movies and you were right. I love Finn. It isn't like the love you feel for Noah and it's not exactly what I feel for you but I do. I love him." Rachel takes another deep breath and Quinn can see that when she clutches the mantel, Rachel grips it so tight that her knuckles turn white. "So when he came back, I decided that if he asked, I would have agreed to marry him."

Quinn's eyebrows furrow and Rachel clears her throat before turning to face her friend once more. "But-"

"I know. The entire time I've known you, I've been preaching about independence. But Finn is…" She pauses and takes a deep breath, eyes closing tight as she continues. "Finn _was_ a good man and he takes very good care of me. Being his wife would have been wonderful and it would have done an excellent job of helping me forget about you."

"What do you mean forget about me," Quinn asks and she blinks roughly so she doesn't start crying again.

"I'm not stupid, Quinn. I know that when Noah comes back, you will be his wife again. And the… _friendship_ we have will no longer be an option."

"Why not? You can still come over, Rachel. You can still go shopping with me and help me with Beth… I don't want you to leave." Quinn bites her tongue before she can say 'I love you' again.

"Do you really think Noah would approve? I wouldn't call our friendship normal. I don't think it could be considered a friendship at all…"

"I don't want to lose you though… This past week has been unbearable without you, Rachel." Quinn hates how childish she sounds right now. She knows that Rachel's week must have been ten times worse than her own and Quinn really should be trying to comfort the other girl instead of being selfish. She should be asking how Rachel's been doing. If Rachel has been eating and if she's been getting enough sleep. Quinn should offer to go over to the Hudson house and clean and cook and try to some how calm Carol down.

"I know, Quinn. That's why I wanted you to stop saying that you love me. You've just made it ten times harder for me to stay away." Quinn pushes herself up from her spot on the chair, one hand bracing her lower back as she does so. She waddles over to Rachel who takes a cautious step back. "Finn was someone I could have spent the rest of my life with and he would have made me feel like I was the best thing to ever happen to him. And I know he would have made me feel okay with the fact that I didn't have you… You have Noah to be that person for you but now I have no one."

"I'm still _here,_ Rachel."

"But you won't be for very long. After I found out about Finn, I spent approximately 13 hours crying. Then I decided that crying was going to get me nowhere and so I started thinking. And do you know what I've come up with, Quinn? Absolutely nothing. I don't know what to do. I don't want to leave Carol because I know she won't be able to handle being alone. But I can't be in that house for more than a second without wanting to cry or kick something. I don't even think I can stay in this city anymore without some sort of ache in my chest. It reminds me too much of Finn and I automatically want to come here and see you."

"We can still see one another. It would just have to be a little different… I don't want to _not_ see you. I don't think I can."

Rachel sighs and shakes her head. "I'd rather have nothing at all than anything less than what we have now."

Quinn's whole body slumps and she opens her mouth to say something but the words never come. She knows Rachel is right. Out of sight, out of mind would probably hurt her heart less than seeing Rachel everyday and not having the closeness they have now. Noah is an extremely jealous man and Quinn knows for a fact that he would not be okay with Rachel always touching her in one form or another. If he were to find out Quinn's kissed Rachel… She swallows hard. She doesn't want to think about what Noah would do. "I love you," Quinn breathes out because she doesn't think there is anything else she can say.

They both know that this is the beginning of their end.

Rachel smiles for the first time since she came over (it's actually the first time Rachel's smiled in a week). "I love you too, Quinn. Very, very much so."

Quinn nods, biting her bottom lip as she bunches the fabric of her dress in her fists. "What do we do now?"

"I'm not really sure."

Quinn nods and then clears her throat. "You'll be leaving soon won't you?" Rachel looks up at Quinn whose eyes are completely glossed over with tears.

"Please don't cry, Quinn." Rachel takes a step forward, hand reaching to grab the blonde's hand but this time Quinn retreats from her.

"I'm pregnant and hormonal and you've just told me you're leaving. How do you expect me not to cry?" Rachel smiles, reaching for Quinn again and this time Quinn ends up falling into the brunette's touch.

"I'm still here now, Quinn. We can still have today at the very least."

"I'm so sorry," Quinn breathes out. "I'm a blubbering mess. I should be comforting you! Finn died and yet I can't push my own heartache aside to help you for once." She feels Rachel's fingers lace through hers, her other hand coming up to palm Quinn's neck. "Do you need to cry? Because you can cry too. Oh goodness, I feel like Beth right now." Rachel laughs lightly and rises on to her tiptoes, quickly placing a soft kiss against Quinn's lips. Quinn's eyes widen just before she blinks rapidly, a smile crawling on to her face.

"You've helped me a lot more than you think, my liebling." Quinn bites her bottom lip for a moment, blushing because that seems to be her natural reaction when Rachel says things like that to her. "I know you don't think that you have because I do so many tangible things for you but you have in other ways, Quinn. And I'm going to keep that with me forever."

"I hate this you know. I hate how unfair this entire situation is."

Rachel nods and plays with a loose strand of hair at the nape of Quinn's neck. "This was going to be ending soon anyway, Quinn. We've had an expiration date since I saw you looking at me at the train station."

"I still don't like it very much," Quinn answers with a pout, the hand that's not grasping tightly on to Rachel's coming up to play with the extra fabric that bunches at the shorter girl's hip.

"Beth really did get quite a lot from you, didn't she?" Quinn giggles and grips Rachel's hip before glancing out the window behind her. It still looks still outside but she feels better about the lifelessness outside now that Rachel's here with her. Quinn's eyes return to Rachel's and she smiles before letting out a small yawn. Even though she's done nothing all day (all week really), she's cried her fair share of tears and she thinks that she deserves to feel a little drained. "Come on. You should be sitting down. Your back must be killing you."

"It's fine, Rachel." The brunette shakes her head and untangles herself from Quinn but keeping their hands linked together. "I've done nothing but worry all week."

Rachel's eyes widen and she attempts to drop Quinn's hand but the blonde grips tighter to the tan skin because she's not sure she can take Rachel being any further away from her. "Have you gotten around to your garden? I wouldn't fault you if you did, even though you know I don't think you should, because I wasn't here." Rachel starts walking towards the kitchen but Quinn tugs on her hand once they get to the foot of the stairs.

"I've had Beth help me a little because I don't think I could actually get back off the ground if I tried. There are still a lot of veggies out there that we just didn't get to."

"Why don't you go take a nap upstairs? I'll go work on the garden and you can rest." Quinn frowns slightly but Rachel squeezes her hand before pushing her towards the stairs. "Go on. I'll be up when I'm done."

"Please make sure you get a cup of water. It's hot out and I don't want you passing out," Quinn says as she starts going up the stairs, looking over her shoulder to make sure Rachel nods.

* * *

It's even hotter upstairs and Quinn actually huffs and puffs a little bit in order to make it up the stairs. She peeks in on Beth, who is sleeping like a rock, the blanket Quinn laid over her bunched up at her feet. She runs her hand through her daughter's curls softly and the girl shifts in her sleep, thumb finding its way into her mouth. Once she's satisfied that her daughter is fast asleep and safe, she crosses the hall to her bedroom. Quinn pulls her hair up so that it's off her neck, wishing that she had opted to pull it up this morning when she got dressed instead of leaving it down. It's unbearably hot in here, even warmer than Beth's room, and she realizes just how sweaty the trip up the stairs made her. Her dress sticks to her skin uncomfortably and she grimaces at the feel of damp fabric against her back.

She unbuttons her dress quickly, sighing when a small gust of air hits her bare back as she pulls her arms out of the fabric. She holds on to the edge of the dresser as she steps out of her dress, straightening out as she tosses it in the hamper by her vanity. She walks over to her closet, hands coming to rest on a blue dress that's sandwiched in between a dress from last summer and one of Rachel's. Her other hand comes up to finger the yellow fabric of her old summer dress, smiling sadly. It's a beautiful dress, bright and vibrant with a fitted waist and a hem that falls at her knees. She doubts she'd be able to get the dress over her chest now and she briefly wonders if she'll be able to fit into it next year. Her body had changed slightly after Beth (her hips widened, breasts stayed a little bigger, waist an inch bigger than before) and the dress was a tight fit then so she doubts it'll fit after this pregnancy.

She sighs and pulls her clean dress off the hanger, grimacing at the heavy, scratchy feel of the fabric. She slips her arms though the cap sleeves as she looks at Rachel's dress. It was the one the brunette was wearing the day Quinn kissed her in the dining room. A small smile appears on her face, her fingers leaving the buttons on her dress to run over the floral pattern on Rachel's dress. Rachel always seems to wear such dark clothes, save for the first time Quinn ever saw her. She'd love to see the girl in a vibrant color, perhaps in a purple or a red, maybe even in the yellow dress that sits next to it. She closes her eyes and lets her mind wander a little bit, imagining Rachel in the kitchen with Beth. Beth's dressed in the blue dress she adores (most Sundays Beth'll refuse to wear any other dress to church) and Rachel's in Quinn's yellow dress. They sit on the floor like they do every time Quinn cooks, playing with the assortment of dolls and stuffed animals Beth drops at their feet. Their dresses are fanned out around them, their hair pulled back into curly ponytails, bright sun spilling in through the window and illuminating their laughing faces. She opens her eyes as she exhales.

Quinn desperately wishes she had more time with Rachel. She's finally realized just how amazing her friendship with the brunette could be, just how much more they could have now that she's acknowledged her full feelings. She lies down in bed, forgetting completely about buttoning her dress, as she realizes her body aches in every way possible. Her heart beats heavily against her chest, torn between breaking with sadness and swelling with joy.

Her husband, her _wonderful_ Noah, is finally coming home. She hasn't seen him in almost nine months and she realizes that this time has been the longest she's ever been apart from him for the past 12 years. They'd gone to school together for years before they got together, weekends the only time they were separated. She rolls on to her side tiredly when she realizes she'd never be able to leave her family. She may not be content with the way her life's turned out but she doesn't think she could do anything if she knew Noah was alive and not with her. And now, in a few short weeks, he'll be home in her arms.

But, in order to get back the one man who has ever _truly_ loved her, she must give up Rachel, the only other person besides Noah who made her feel some sort of worth. Rachel had been a wonderful friend to her since the very first time they met, staying completely non-judgmental about Quinn's out of order way of doing things and helping Quinn with the parts of everyday life that were slowly consuming her. She understood Quinn and, with every touch or look, made the blonde feel everything she felt with Noah. It was exciting to feel so wanted by someone again, someone who also reminded her that she was her own person who deserved to be selfish sometimes. Now she has to give Rachel up before she's even had the chance to really have her and it kills her a little bit inside.

She wipes the light sheen of sweat from her forehead as she rolls on to her other side, eyes closing tiredly as she hears the back door shut downstairs.

* * *

The moment Rachel steps into the kitchen, she cries. Her smile drops from her face, her shoulders sag, and she lets out a sob before she claps a hand over her mouth. Rachel knows Quinn would be back down here in an instant if she knew Rachel was crying, which would probably cause Quinn herself to cry and Rachel doesn't want or need that. She closes her eyes tightly, pushing the heels of her hands so hard against her eyes that she sees colors on her eyelids before she fills her lungs with air.

Rachel has come to realize that the life she's been given is extremely unfair. Her family back home was unconventional. The house was always full, always noisy, always smelled like different foods but honestly, up until she was 10, she was never entirely sure who everyone was and why they were there. She always knew who her father was (after all, what kind of girl didn't know her father?). He was the one she sat next to at the dinner table, the one who would tuck her in at night, the one who would walk her to school in the morning. And then there was Shelby. She supposes Shelby was her mother but she was never very sure. She acted like a mother but the most she ever saw between Shelby and her father was friendship. They would laugh and joke and make sure Rachel was safe and healthy, but they were never romantic. So, for the longest time, Rachel was never sure if Shelby was her mother. Aren't mothers and fathers supposed to be married? That's what all her teachers had told her growing up.

But as Rachel grew older, she noticed things. She noticed that her Uncle Leroy wasn't exactly her uncle. He was much more touchy with her daddy than Shelby was and he sat on the other side of him at dinner. They were the ones who shared a room with one bed and when Rachel was nine, she saw the two kiss as they cooked dinner. One slip in nine years and Rachel really has to congratulate them for being so private when she was such a nosy child. It wasn't until right before they sent her off that she realized what her father was.

She realized that her father and uncle were obviously in love after she had seen them in the kitchen and that made them homosexuals. She wrinkles her nose when she thinks the word. It sounds disgustingly clinical and made it sound like they were perhaps doing something wrong. And, as it turns out, Germany _did_ think they were doing something wrong.

She may have had an unconventional family but they loved her and they all loved each other, though in different ways, but that unconventionality put an expiration date on her family. Not only was most of her family Jewish (the only people who weren't were her Uncle Leroy and her Aunt Barbra), but her daddy and Uncle Leroy were _homosexuals_ which meant that if any Nazi found out…

Rachel squeezes her eyes shut again because she doesn't want to invite any of the images of her father and uncle in a camp and at the hands of a Nazi into her head. She swallows hard and walks over to the sink, taking a cup from on the counter and filling it with water. The point _is_ , her family is suffering. And if they're not suffering then they're dead. It's as simple as that and Rachel thinks it's idiotic that she has to accept that much. She remembers sitting in the living room in front of the large bay window and listening silently as they discussed what they should do and who they should send to America. Shelby sat next to her on the floor, hand holding tightly on to hers as she stared at Grandpa. He was too old and so sending him to America would have been stupid.

"This is my home. They can't scare me out of my country. And what kind of life could I build as an old man in a new country anyways," he had said hoarsely in German (Yiddish was forbidden in her house at that point just to make them a little safer) and everyone around seemed to nod (she can only think of how quickly her Grandpa must have died being in one of those camps). Uncle Leroy wouldn't leave without her daddy and vice versa. Shelby looked at her sadly before saying that she wouldn't leave without Hiram because they decided during their childhood that it would be them until the very end and she wouldn't leave him now.

She remembers that they could only afford to send two. And because so many wouldn't leave without someone else, it was decided that Aunt Barbra would accompany her to America. She feels guilty now that one of those tickets was always hers, that there was never a question of if she would go but with whom. They sent them with as much as they could carry without looking suspicious and they got out of Germany quietly. But there was some sort of hang up in France and everything happened so fast that Rachel's still not very sure what happened. All she can remember is her aunt shoving her bag into her hands and telling her to run to the ship as fast as she could. They weren't very far from the dock and she doesn't understand why they couldn't still go together but her aunt had looked more worried than Rachel had ever seen so she did as she was told.

It's not fair that she was sent to America. She thinks that most of her family should have gone before her. After all, she was just a girl and if she was going to be put into one of those camps and possibly die, at least she was just a child. Her life had no meaning yet and if that meant someone who already had so much in the world got to live then she thinks she would have been okay with dying. She would have probably been terrified and in pain but in the larger scheme of things, she thinks she would have been okay with dying. It's not fair that she got to live and her family didn't.

But they sent her because they _loved_ her which meant that Rachel swore she would live a life that they'd be proud of. She was brought into a wonderfully amazing family. They were a little broken but they had enough room in their home and hearts to let her in. Carol Hudson became the mother she never really had and did her best to make Rachel feel like she was living in a house full of people. And Finn became the friend she never had. Back home she was always thought of as weird and since her family wasn't like the other families, she was often cast aside in school. She was bright and book smart but socially Rachel was never really sure what to do. It didn't matter when Rachel came from a house full of people who loved her but when she was suddenly in a new, foreign country, it made her feel more alone than she could have thought. But Finn introduced her to people, took her out, and brought her out of her shell that she'd slipped into during her first year in America.

Now Finn is dead and Carol is hurting because she's lost the two men in her life and Rachel is once again reminded of how unfair life is.

And she's about to lose the only good thing left in her life.

Despite Quinn's declarations of love (which made Rachel feel so unbelievably warm inside when she'd felt so cold all week), Quinn is decidedly very conscious of what she does. She doesn't like doing things that will upset her family or her husband. She worships God every Sunday and Rachel's not sure she's ever seen Quinn not pray before a meal. Rachel knows that being gay is not something the Lord allows, no matter which God is being prayed to. It is true that most of Quinn's religious beliefs seem to stem from her parents and, though Rachel knows Quinn wishes to be nothing like them, it is still something Quinn holds in high regard. And she loves Noah with all of her heart and hurting him is not something she would actively try to do. Rachel's honestly surprised Quinn told her she loved her but she also knows that that's the most she'll ever get. Quinn would never leave Noah and even if she were to, Rachel's not looking to be persecuted like her father, which may sound selfish, but it's the truth. Being gay in America isn't any less scary than it was in Germany and she doesn't want Quinn or herself to go through anything similar to what she saw back home. Besides, Rachel has loved a man. If she loved one before, well, she'll just have to make herself love another one in the future.

It's not fair that she has to do without Quinn and it's not fair that she'll end up settling for some man that will come along. Rachel is incredibly tired of how unfair everything is but she's alive and she may as well make use of that.

And if she's found the strength to come say goodbye to the blonde, then she's going to make use of it.

Rachel rolls her shoulders back and wipes the tears from her face. She grabs the basket Quinn uses to gather the produce from next to the back door and walks into the blazing heat.

* * *

Before Quinn really registers it, she's fallen asleep. She only knows this because she can hear someone in her room trying to be quiet but failing. She opens one eye slowly, looking towards the hardwood floors, suspecting Beth has once again woken up from her nap and snuck in the room to play with the few things Quinn keeps under the bed. She doesn't see the blonde head of her daughter and instead finds jumpsuit covered legs. She blinks and then opens both eyes, yawning as she pushes herself up into a sitting position. "Did I wake you," Rachel asks from her spot in front of Quinn's closet, the dress that the blonde had touched earlier in her hands.

Quinn shakes her head even though Rachel had woke her up because if this is one of the last days she gets to spend with Rachel, then she doesn't want to spend it sleeping. She notices that Rachel's opened the windows in the room, trying to make it a little less hot but it doesn't do very much because there is absolutely no breeze outside. The brunette tosses her dress over Quinn's vanity chair and Quinn watches silently as Rachel unbuttons her jumpsuit. Rachel's changed in front of her before and the brunette has seen her naked so it really shouldn't be a big deal anymore. Still, Quinn feels a pull in her heart telling her that she shouldn't be looking at Rachel that way and a burning low in her belly wishing Rachel would undress faster. Rachel pulls her arms out of the sleeves, letting the fabric gather on top of her hips as she fans her face and breathes out heavily. "It's almost cooler outside," Rachel says, laughing lightly as she turns to give Quinn a small smile. Quinn notices that Rachel's eyes are red rimmed and Rachel must notice too because she quickly ducks her head, murmuring "I'm fine, Quinn. It's okay."

She nods though she knows it's not okay and Rachel isn't fine (after all, Quinn knows just how important happy _appearances_ are) and instead looks at Rachel as she unzips the rest of her jumpsuit. "You're so beautiful," Quinn sighs as she blinks tiredly, smiling widely when she sees a blush on Rachel's cheeks.

Rachel finishes stepping out of her jumpsuit, leaving it in a pile on the floor at her feet. "You know," Rachel starts, ignoring comment with a tiny smile, "you're usually very polite when I change. And I think that I'm quite courteous whenever I help you in the bath."

"Do you want me to look away," Quinn asks, playfully bringing a hand up to cover her eyes. "I figure I should make use of today and enjoy the sight of you undressing since our time is limited, but if it makes you uncomfortable…" Quinn parts her index and middle fingers, a wide grin forming under her hand when she sees Rachel's face right in front of her.

"I'm not sure I've ever met this confident Quinn before," Rachel comments, bringing the blonde's hand away from her face. "Not that I don't enjoy it or that you were any less amazing before." Their fingers lace together flawlessly and Quinn hums in contentment, her eyes closing sleepily.

"I wouldn't call it confidence. I've just always been _honest_ in the bedroom." She' not sure if she should bring up Noah. Rachel has never had a problem with her husband before but now that Finn is dead and their time together is even shorter than before…

"Finn was never like that. Actually, Finn couldn't even watch me undress without flushing all over, closing his eyes, and mumbling under his breath." Rachel's smile is a little sad now and Quinn squeezes her hand as she opens her eyes.

"Noah has never been like that. He's always been very… forward as it pertains to sex and I suppose that trickled down into me. He's always encouraged me to tell him what I like and what I don't, and I quite like watching you undress because I think you are the most gorgeous woman I've ever met."

Rachel blushes again, shaking her head lightly. "I highly doubt that, Quinn."

"Then maybe you're not as smart as I once thought you were," Quinn says softly, dropping Rachel's hand as she pushes herself up so that she can sit with her back against the headboard. "You _are_ beautiful, Rachel."

"I wouldn't say I'm the most gorgeous though." Rachel sits down on the edge of the bed, putting her dress down on her lap as she does so.

"To me, you are." Rachel locks eyes with Quinn who gives her a bright smile, blonde hair falling in a messy halo around her face. "Which is why I'm happy that you have yet to put your dress on." Rachel rolls her eyes, smiling widely despite herself.

"I never thought I'd hear such words come out of your mouth. Even if we are in your bedroom," Rachel says, nudging her body into Quinn's side.

"Could you imagine if my mother heard me now?" Rachel giggles at the thought of Judy Fabray's face. Not only would be horrified by the actual words Quinn's been saying, but she'd probably be appalled at the fact that Rachel is on the receiving end. "It took me a lot of time to become comfortable saying things like that to Noah because my mother taught me that saying things like that were horribly unladylike. I used to blush even worse than you did when Noah would get me to whisper things like that and they're not even that horrible. After all, why not tell the person you love the things you love about them in such an intimate way?"

Rachel brings her hand up to Quinn's stomach, clean fingers touching the exposed slit of skin softly. "What do you love about Noah?"

Quinn tilts her head to the side, eyes focused on Rachel's fingers doing dances on her skin. "I love that Noah showed me that there's more to life than what my parents expected of me. I love that he played with Beth everyday before he left. I love that he doesn't get out of bed in the morning without kissing my shoulder. I love that he always 'accidentally' walked into the bathroom when I was getting out of the tub. I love the way his muscles flex when we make love. I love that he doesn't think I look disgusting when I'm pregnant. I love the face he makes when he's about to release. I love his smile, the slope of his nose, and the way his left eyebrow wrinkles when he laughs."

Rachel's fingers push back Quinn's dress a little, revealing a small stretch mark that she runs the pad of her finger over. "You're a beautiful pregnant woman. Not that I've seen any naked pregnant women before, but you're something to behold."

"My stomach is disgusting and my breasts balloon up so much that I look un-proportionate." Rachel opens her mouth to protest but Quinn shakes her head. "What do you love about Finn?"

She stares at Quinn's stomach, tracing each and every stretch mark she sees as she thinks the question over. "I love his smile. It was big and kind of goofy looking most of the time but when he needed it to, he could look very charming with it. I love how at first he'd shyly reach for my hand but then hold on to it tightly until we _had_ to let go. I love how much he wanted to take care of Carol and make her proud. I love how hard he'd try to learn German and Yiddish for me. I love how carefully he'd undress me whenever we were intimate. I love how big his hands were, strong but gentle. And how he made sure he touched every inch of my body with them the night before he left." Rachel glances up at Quinn's face only to find the blonde staring back at her intently. She clears her throat and lays her hand flat on Quinn's round stomach. "What is it that you love about me?"

"I love how wonderfully honest you are with me because, in return, I feel like I can completely honest with you. I love how strong you are. You came to a new country on your own and have absolutely flourished here. Though sometimes I think you deserve to break down and when you do, I wish you'd let someone be there for you instead of crying in the backyard." Quinn gives her a pointed look only to have Rachel shake her head with a small, almost guilty smile. "I love how selfless and selfish you are at the same time. I love how well you get along with my daughter. I love how well you take care of me even though you have absolutely no obligation to. I love when you sing. I love that you care so much about Carol. I love the way you your nose scrunches up when you laugh _really_ hard at something. I love how you look flawless all the time even though I've never seen any make up on you. And I love how soft your lips feel against mine."

Rachel's hand glides down the curve of Quinn's rounding stomach, stopping once she hit's the elastic of Quinn's underwear. She notices how the blonde's breath catches in her throat and she meets Quinn's eyes briefly when she notices the blonde's hips shifting up into her hand. "What do you love about me," Quinn asks, voice less confidant than it was before but eyes still strong and locked on Rachel's face.

"Absolutely everything," Rachel answers as her pinky nudges the waistband of Quinn's underwear. "As verbose as I am, I don't think I could ever fully and accurately describe everything I love about you. You're simply beyond everything I could imagine. You're more than gorgeous, more than intelligent. You're the best cook I've ever encountered and that covers two different countries. You're an amazing mother though I know you don't agree…" Rachel pauses and takes a deep breath, the hand that lies in her lap suddenly clutching on to her dress tightly. "For whatever reason, you make me feel more at home than I have since I left Germany."

Quinn smiles softly, hand coming up to palm Rachel's cheek. "I think I just realized how much I'm going to miss you and it's so much more than I originally thought," Quinn says quietly before moving her hand to cover Rachel's, nudging it lower.

Rachel's hand doesn't budge but still stays pressed against her skin as she shakes her head. "We can't come back from this, Quinn. Everything before this could be disguised as a very strong form of friendship but this? This is cheating… I know we won't be around each other for much longer but this breaks a vow."

"I don't care," Quinn replies instantly, shocking herself when she realizes that she is being 100% honest. She loves Noah, she really does, but at this very moment she can't imagine not going through with this.

Quinn recalls her mother once telling a friend that all wives have a secret that their husbands will never find out about and if this is Quinn's then so be it.

"I love you and I want _you_." That's all it takes for Rachel to grip the fabric of Quinn's underwear and pull them down her legs. The blonde kicks them off when they reach her ankles and Rachel stands up, her dress falling to the hard wood floors as she climbs in between Quinn's legs. Her hands run up pale skin, fingers tracing imaginary patterns as they move upwards. Quinn's hips shift slightly, inching them closer to Rachel as her legs widen gradually. Quinn wishes she could see what's about to happen but her stomach hides everything above her knees when she's lying almost entirely flat on her back. She watches as Rachel's hands disappear before glancing up at Rachel's face when she feels light touches reach her thighs. Rachel bites her bottom lip nervously as her fingers dip to the insides of Quinn's things.

"I've never done this before," Rachel murmurs. She glances up at Quinn and blushes slightly. Rachel's never been shy about her body or about sex, but this is the first time she's been the more outwardly dominant one and the first time she's done anything like this where she can actually see what's happening. "Well, I've never done anything like this to someone other than myself." She runs her index finger along the line where hip meets thigh, smiling when Quinn's breath hitches in her throat.

"I've never done _that_ … It's a sin," Quinn breathes out and Rachel chuckles as her finger finally comes into contact with coarse blonde curls.

"Well then I'm honored you've decided to embark on this sin with me," Rachel replies with a small laugh, pushing Quinn's left leg out wider as her fingers trail the length of Quinn's slit. Quinn's hips buck slightly at the contact and the hand that laid on her thigh moves up to grip Quinn's hip, thumb rubbing soft circles into her skin as Rachel's now wet fingers move up to Quinn's clit. It's weird doing this from this angle but when Quinn releases a soft _oh_ as Rachel presses against her small bud and rubs a tight circle against it, Rachel knows that what she's doing is right. Rachel lets her hand trail back down, taking her eyes off her hand to watch Quinn's face as she slowly dips finger inside the blonde.

Quinn's eyes are screwed shut and her lips are parted as she lets out something between a moan and a whimper. Her blonde hair has already begun to stick to her forehead (something Rachel attributes to the heat in their small Ohio town rather than her own slow, torturous work on Quinn) and then suddenly Quinn's eyes peek open, hazel eyes locking with her own as she chokes out, "More." Rachel nods slightly, leaning down to leave a kiss on the exposed, rounded skin in front of her as she slips another finger inside Quinn, this time picking up her pace with each stroke. She perches her chin on Quinn's stomach, smiling when she feels Quinn's hips meet her every single thrust before her eyes focus on the blonde's hand coming up to cup her chest. She watches Quinn's fingers hesitantly run over her nipple before bringing it between two of her fingers and twisting lightly. Rachel bites her lip at the site, her hand slowing as she stares at Quinn tending to her chest. Quinn groans, half in pleasure and half in frustration, tilting the head to her side with a raised brow. "As much as I appreciate you being captivated by me," she says, breathing labored and shallow, "I would very much like you to continue what you were doing before."

Rachel laughs just before pressing her lips just under Quinn's belly button. "Of course, liebling," Rachel answers into the soft skin against her mouth, her hand immediately moving inside the blonde again. This time she doesn't ease into it, instead matches the pace she left off with and moves her thumb so that she can continuously rub Quinn's clit.

Quinn can't believe this. She's finally here, with Rachel. Rachel, the girl who saved her from an old woman trying to steal from her. Rachel, the girl who can get her daughter to stop throwing fits with ease. Rachel, the girl who tells her to sit down and rest when she needs it. Rachel, the girl who forced her to remember who she was. Rachel, this beautiful, gorgeously smart woman who fell into Quinn's life by absolute chance. And Quinn thinks she can actually feel her heart swelling beneath her chest she's so happy that Rachel is here with her, in this moment, touching her like she is and making her feel like this is a moment of absolute perfection. It's funny, she thinks, that two damaged people in such a broken world can feel like everything is completely okay.

Quinn desperately grabs for the hand that rests on her hip, lacing her fingers with Rachel's and tugging the brunette upwards. She wants more, _needs_ more, and Rachel straddles the leg she abandoned in order to get closer. Her stomach gets in the way slightly, Rachel having to slither around it in order to reach Quinn's face comfortably. She feels Rachel's lips press against hers just as she feels fingers curl inside of her and Quinn gasps into Rachel's mouth at the feeling. Quinn's fingers tangle in chocolate hair, running her tongue along Rachel's bottom lip before nipping at it lightly as she feels everything start pooling in her belly. Rachel pulls back, resting her forehead against Quinn's as she watches the blonde's scrunched up face. Quinn's lips are parted, letting out a series of tiny little moans before Rachel presses a little harder against her clit and then suddenly Quinn moans loudly, causing the brunette to smile widely. "Let go, geliebte," Rachel whispers and Quinn's toes curl, gasping as her body goes rigid before she exhales, body melting into the sheets as she cums.

Quinn pants heavily as Rachel peppers her face with feather light kisses. "Oh goodness," Quinn breathes out and Rachel laughs, really _laughs,_ before kissing her once more before sitting up, resting on Quinn's leg. She finds Rachel's hand again and squeezes it before trailing up her arm, toying with the thing strap of Rachel's bra. The young German woman smiles deviously while simultaneously blushing, something Quinn wasn't sure was possible but finds adorable anyway. Quinn slips a red fingernail beneath the white strap, causing it to fall off Rachel's tan shoulder and the cup sags, revealing more skin on Rachel's chest. Quinn bites her lip as she drags her nail to the drooping fabric, pushing it down and running her nails over Rachel's hard nipple. Rachel arches into Quinn's touch, body moving against her pale thigh and Rachel shivers at the sensation it causes between her legs. It doesn't go unnoticed by the blonde beneath her and Quinn pushes her leg up at the same time she runs her thumb over the stiff peek on Rachel's breast, smiling when the other girl moans.

Quinn moves her other hand to Rachel's hip, pushing the other woman down firmly and urging her to slide forward faster. Rachel lets her head fall back as her hips move at Quinn's direction, tongue darting out to wet her swollen lips as she focuses on the feel of the fabric against her slick skin as she thrusts forward on Quinn's thigh. Rachel whimpers, eyebrows scrunching together as Quinn moves Rachel's hips faster against her, nails digging into caramel skin. Her whole body feels like it's on fire and she can feel sweat forming on every inch of her skin.

It's weird but empowering to know that she's the reason Rachel is feeling like this. The reason Rachel's making all these wonderful sounds that Quinn has never heard another woman make before, let alone be the one to evoke them. Quinn's nails drag up and down Rachel's bent leg as the brunette starts panting, hand going up to push the hair that's escaped her bandana back. Quinn can feel the wet spot on her thigh growing and she massages Rachel's breast briefly before tweaking her nipple roughly, causing Rachel's legs to tighten around her legs as she slumps forward, her arms catching herself before she falls on to Quinn's belly. Rachel shudders and her breathing stops for a moment before she takes in a deep breath, rolling her shoulders back as her hips stop moving against Quinn.

Quinn's hands grasp Rachel's arms, steadying her as much as Quinn can before cupping Rachel's warm cheeks. "Okay?" Quinn asks and Rachel exhales through her nose before nodding as she rolls off of Quinn and lays down next to her.

Rachel pushes her now sticky briefs down, kicking them off the bed before grabbing one of Quinn's crocheted blankets from the top of the trunk at the end of the bed. She tosses it over the two of them, covering them from the hips down before finding Quinn's hand and lacing their fingers. "Noah's coming home isn't he?" They both turn to look at each other and Rachel somehow manages to smile when the corners of Quinn's lip downturn. "It's okay, Quinn."

"I miss him so much but I know that once he comes back that means I'll start missing you," she whispers and Rachel nods, reaching across herself to smooth Quinn's hair back. "I love you."

"I love you too." Quinn scoots closer to the girl, rolling her eyes when the open dress she's still wearing gets tangled and tightens uncomfortably around her shoulders. Quinn drops a kiss down on to Rachel's shoulder before placing her head there, rounded stomach pressing now pressing into Rachel's side. "When does he come home?"

Quinn wraps an arm across Rachel's waist and sighs. "Two weeks."

Rachel can feel Quinn's eyelashes moving with each blink against her skin, closing her own eyes when she feels Quinn do the same. "I think I should stay away after this then." Quinn raises her head, probably looking at her in protest but she keeps her eyes closed and shakes her head. "You need time to get used to not having me around."

"I suppose I could protest but what good would that do? You're almost as stubborn as I am and I can't force you to come see me," Quinn replies, dropping a few kisses along Rachel's collarbone before putting her head back down, breathing in deep. She wants to commit Rachel's smell to memory before she has to erase it from the house. "Will you stay for dinner?"

"Of course." She feels Quinn's eyes close again and Rachel brings her hand to Quinn's hair, running her fingers through golden strands.

* * *

Quinn isn't able to get to the train station and, as much as she wants to see Noah right away, she really wouldn't be much help. Noah can walk, but not well; his leg is still rigid, causing him to walk slower than ever before and need constant support. She's due to give birth any day now, her stomach so large and outstretched that she can practically feel her stretch marks growing deeper. She doubts she'd be able to support Noah on his way up the stairs now that she's so off balance herself. So, much to everyone's dismay, her father and Leah's husband James went to pick Noah up from the train station. She knows he won't be happy about this and that it will probably only make him feel worse, but there were no other people who would be able to get him from the train station and to the house. She hopes that the latkes she made for dinner and the rugalach Mrs. Puckerman brought help.

She sits at her vanity, hair curled slightly and pinned back on both sides. She wishes she could wear a nicer dress but, even with her girdle on, she can't wear any of the dresses she knows Noah would love. She sighs, something that makes her girdle feel a little loose, only for a moment. She _hates_ this thing. She swears her baby is being smushed and thinks she can feel every inch of the baby against her even though she's loosened the laces on her stomach a lot. If her mother weren't down the hall, she'd take the whole thing off. But she knows her mother will question her, tell her she's not dressing proper, and she'd rather feel like she can't breathe than hear her mother's voice.

She glances at her bed in the reflection of the mirror and lets out an unsteady breath. She put on the other set of sheets they own, the blue ones that they received as a wedding gift from Noah's great aunt. The white ones, the ones she laid on with Rachel, she soaked for two days. Now they're folded and tucked underneath all the winter blankets in the linen closet. She wants to avoid using them for as long as she can. She's not sure she can lay with Noah on those sheets, without the guilt eating away at her. She looks at the trunk at the foot of the bed and her eyes widen when she realizes she hasn't put that blanket away yet. She'd been sleeping with it every night since Rachel left and thought she had put it in the trunk underneath her wedding dress but apparently she didn't.

She returns her gaze to her reflection reaching for the red lipstick she saves for special occasions. Her mother thinks it makes her look easy but both Noah and Rachel have told her she looks beautiful when she wears it. It's the final touch, her eyes already coated with mascara and the tiniest bit of eyeliner, powder on her face and blush already lining her cheek bones. She dabs some of the perfume she got on her 13th birthday on her wrists before dragging them along her neck as well.

It feels almost weird, dressing up again. Not that she hasn't put on make up or perfume since Noah left (she's done that nearly every day), but knowing that this is the first time in nearly nine months that her husband will see her is kind of daunting. She wonders if he'll think she looks different (specifically fatter or maybe even tainted) or if he'll look like someone she doesn't recognize. She breathes in deeply, closing her eyes in order to clear her thoughts. Everything will be fine, she repeats to herself as she slowly opens her eyes. Another deep breath as she gives herself one last once over in the mirror. She stands up, buttoning the final three buttons on the cerulean dress and swallows thickly.

She can hear Beth's laughter from down the hall, followed by her mother's giggling. The windows are open, letting in a breeze that only appeared today, and she can hear a car passing by in front of the house if she really focuses on the sounds around her. The rumbling of the car gets louder, so loud that she realizes it can't just be passing through. She picks up the blanket she laid under with Rachel and sets it into the trunk carefully as someone (probably Jenna) drops a pot in the kitchen.

" _Noah_ ," the young girl squeals and suddenly it's not quiet at all in the house. It went from semi-hushed voices, everyone anticipating the return of her boy in relative silence, to noise that bounces off the walls. She can hear Mrs. Puckerman telling Jenna to calm down, Nana Puckerman yelling in Yiddish, her mother asking Beth if she knows who's home, her father screaming outside for James to turn off the damn car before they roll back into the street (she finds it a little nice that her father hates Leah's husband too, if only a little bit) and Leah calling for everyone to come down stairs.

She desperately wishes she could hear Noah's or Rachel's voice right now.

She shuts the trunk and then steps into the hallway, her mother already halfway down the stairs with Beth in her arms. Her mother may not care very much for Noah, but if being excited for his return makes Beth happy, then Judy Fabray is more than willing to indulge her granddaughter (at least when her husband isn't around).

Quinn can see everyone filing out on to the lawn as she steps off the stairs, eyes focused on her father's car. James pulls out Noah's duffle, tossing it on to the lawn near the patch of grass that is always dry. Her dad opens the back door on the passenger side, bending down on his strong leg to throw Noah's arm over his shoulders. James goes over to help but Russell waves him off, something that makes her sister frown and Quinn smirk. She leans in the doorway, the screen door held open with one of her potted plants, her arms crossed underneath her chest. Her father straightens out slowly, causing Judy to ask if _his_ leg is all right. "I am _fine,_ Judy," he grumbles, brow furrowed in a way that proves him a liar. But then Quinn can see the top of Noah's head and suddenly, her father and husband are standing tall, looks of pain and triumph on their faces.

"Daddy, why don't you let James help, Noah," Leah whines as her husband stands nervously next to her.

"What good would his flat feet do us," her father barks and Quinn stifles a laugh. Maybe Russell won't hate Noah as much anymore now that he's fought in a war.

Noah looks up from the ground when they both walk from around the car. They stop once they reach the grass, leaning on each other for support, and his eyes instantly find her. Not his mother, not his sister, or even Beth. Her.

He's so much thinner now, his jaw much more prominent than it was before. He looks… hardened, something her mother warned her about and called 'the face of battle'. It scares her, afraid that Noah is no longer the boy she came to love. That she'll become her mother, unhappy with her marriage and fearful of her husband.

( _Why_ did Rachel leave her?)

The corners of his lips upturn, giving her a small smile before bringing his free arm up and letting it fall again, as if saying 'Well?' He arches an eyebrow when she stands idle on the porch and she can tell from her spot that something else is different about his face.

She walks, well, _waddles_ over to him and when she gets close enough, she notices the scar slashing through his eyebrow. She frowns, hand raising to touch it hesitantly and he shakes his head. "It's just a scar, babe," he says softly and she rolls her eyes because he should know that, to her, it will never be just a scar. Her fingertips brush over the scar lightly before she cups his cheek, smiling when he leans into her touch.

"I missed you, Noah," she whispers and when he smiles a little wider, she lets out a sigh of relief. Everything around her drops out of focus and the only thing she sees is her husband in front of her, his arm wrapped around her waist (bringing her closer and steadying himself at the same time). Her stomach presses against his and she feels the baby move beneath her skin, wonders if Noah can feel it too. He doesn't say anything if he does, instead just brings his lips to hers.

It's so familiar but so unbelievably different that she doesn't respond at first. She's too concentrated on the fact that his lips are chapped and rough and his mouth moves with less grace than before. He almost feels too heavy against her, his lips claiming dominance in a way that makes her miss Rachel on a day when she shouldn't be thinking about her at all. But then he bites her bottom lip (something she'd scold him about doing in front of family if she was thinking properly) and tangles his hand in her hair and she inhales against his lips sharply. It makes his grip on her tighten and she finds herself wrapping her arms around his neck desperately as she feels the baby kick wildly against her skin.

* * *

Much later that night, after everyone has gone home, she stands in her kitchen. She wipes her wet hands on her apron, sighing as she looks out the window on the back door. Noah is sitting in a folding chair in the middle of their yard, his leg propped up on an old crate. Beth keeps going between the garden (picking flowers that are really nothing more than weeds according to Quinn) and her father who accepts the flowers with a tight smile. He doesn't look angry, just out of place and a little dazed, causing her faded red lips to downturn. He tries to braid the flowers together, almost creating a crown for Beth when his fingers fumble and his large hands crush more than half of the small white and yellow petals.

He shrugs when Beth looks at him expectantly and she can tell just from the way her daughter is standing that she's about to break into tears. She walks over to the door, hand clutching the brass doorknob in her hand but not calling attention to herself just yet. Normally, Beth never cries in front of Noah, or at the very least, doesn't cry for very long when he's around. But he barely moves in his seat, hands still folded on top of wilting weeds as he stares blankly at their daughter's scrunched up face. Beth reaches for the plants in Noah's lap, picking them up and let's out a wail that she can hear even though the door is closed.

He doesn't do anything, just keeps staring until Quinn opens the door and calls for Beth to come inside. The little girl stomps her way over, tripping over her own feet a little, before she buries her face in Quinn's legs. "We can try and make another one tomorrow. It's bath time now okay?" She runs her fingers through Beth's soft curls, smiling when she feels the little girl nod. She glances back at her husband, noticing that he's still looking at the spot where Beth was standing. "Noah?"

Her mother told her she needed to expect this. She had pulled her aside in the kitchen earlier, busying herself with glasses as she spoke. "I know it all seems fine now, but he _is_ different, Quinn. You were young when your father changed so you probably don't realize just how much Noah is changed," she said, voice barely above a whisper as she poured lemonade into the glasses on the tray. "He'll get angry easily, he'll be silent more often than not… You need to be prepared for this."

"I _know,_ Mother. You've been telling me this ever since he left," she retorted and Judy just shook her head.

"He's here now though. It's no longer _when_ he gets home, it's _now_ that you have to deal with this."

She sighs and wipes the back of her hand over her forehead to get rid of the sweat already forming there. " _Noah_ ," she yells and he blinks, this time looking over at her. He seems ever further away than he did when he was out of the country even though he's in their backyard. "I'm going to give Beth her bath. Do you want help in before or do you want me to get you once I'm done?"

"What ever is easiest, babe," he says and she nods, grabbing Beth's hand and turning around.

* * *

He slings an arm over her shoulder as she wraps her left arm around his waist. She glances up at his face and notices that he looks just as worried as she feels. "Why don't I just sleep on the couch," he asks.

She shakes her head, glancing behind him to look at their small couch. "You'll never get comfortable. You're too long to lay on it so you'll probably have to sleep sitting up with your legs on the table." The real question, she thinks, is why on Earth they told everyone to go home. Both her father and Mrs. Puckerman offered to stay but Quinn politely declined, wanting at least one night alone with her husband. "Come on. So long as you make use of the banister we should be fine." He nods, gripping the polished wood as he sets his good leg on the first step. She steps up too, trying with all her might to steady him and take on some of his weight when he lifts his wounded leg.

He groans when he brings his leg up, wanting desperately to put pressure on the wounds. He falls on to his forearm on the banister in an effort to not crush his wife. "Just breathe, baby," she says, bringing her free hand up to cup his cheek briefly. "We can go as slow as you need to." Her body starts hurting due to the awkward way she's bent underneath Noah's arm. Letting him sleep downstairs is definitely looking like a better option.

"I scared you earlier didn't I?" She looks up at him, her eyebrows scrunching together in worry when she notices just how hard he's breathing. He drops his arm and turns so that he can lean his back on the banister, Quinn following suit and letting go of his waist. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his head hanging as he redistributes his weight on his good leg.

"You just stared at her," she says quietly as she settles against the plain beige wall, arms coming to rest under her chest. "And even when I called her, you just kept staring…"

"I don't know why but I just… It's hard not remembering everything I saw." She wants to ask him what he saw, what exactly he was remembering and why he remembered something then, when all he was doing was making something for his daughter. She stays silent though because her mother told her to _never_ ask about the war. No matter how curious she got, what happened during his service was absolutely none of her business and so she should bite her tongue whenever she got the notion to stupidly open her mouth. "There were so many kids, Q… Some towns where they were the only people there. And we couldn't do a fucking thing to help them."

Her heart feels heavy and the baby starts quickly rapidly at the skin below her belly button. She feels like she could get sick if he continues talking about it. "You're home now," she manages to say, despite the swelling lump in her throat.

He nods, his face becoming less soft that it was before. "It's just _hard_ …"

"Will we become like my parents," she asks after a few moments of silence, her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth. She worries that they won't get past this, much like her parents never did though they pretend that everything is normal. Now that her father appears to have taken a shining to Noah, she can see him trying to mold him into what he thinks a man should act like. Suddenly her future with Noah is filled with images of him downing scotch like water and becoming completely closed off from her. She honestly thinks she would die if she became her mother. And she knows that if she is doomed to live the life of a Fabray, something she's still working very hard to escape, she'll regret not fighting for Rachel to stay.

"I'd rather you leave me than have that happen," he answers, causing her to drop her lip and smile slightly. "Your father is still an asshole, even if he has stopped referring to me as 'The Jew'. And your mother looks like she'd rather be dead most of the time." He holds out a calloused hand that she takes gingerly. "I've told you before, you deserve a hell of a lot more than what your parents have."

"So we'll be okay?"

"It might take some time," he says, squeezing her hand softly, "but we'll be okay. I promise."

"Okay," she breathes out, body finally relaxing against the wall behind her. She feels like finally sees her husband for the first time in nearly nine months even if she doesn't exactly believe him. "Come on. I'll create a makeshift bed for you in the living room. We'll use the cushions from the couch and chair." They return to their previous stance except this time they have only one step to conquer instead of a whole flight.

"Do you remember when we first moved in here? All the furniture wouldn't be here till the next day but we wanted to be out of Ma's house as soon as we could?"

She smiles, nodding her head as they step off the stairs. "I was about this far along then too." They walk slowly into the living room and Quinn helps Noah ease down into the hard wood chair at the desk. She moves the coffee table flush with the edge of the couch before throwing the cushions to the rug in the center of the room. "I'm sorry I couldn't get you up the stairs."

"S'okay, babe. I wouldn't want your water breaking because you have to support me," he says, absently looking through the few pieces of paper that are out of place on the desk.

"It'll be easier with your mom helping… And I guess my father. I can't believe he offered to take you to your doctor's visits."

"He could just be saying that so he can take me somewhere and off me," he laughs, picking up the letter than Quinn crumpled in her fist two weeks ago.

"I don't think he'd be able to with his leg," she remarks, kicking the cushions into a row, her face flushing as she disappears down the hall.

"Don't need two working legs to shoot a gun, Q," he returns distractedly, looking at the newspaper that was underneath the letter in his hand.

"My father's not going to kill you," Quinn lectures as she walks back into the room, arms filled with blankets and pillows. "If he was going to, he would've done it already. Besides, he needs two legs to hide your body." She helps him hobble over to the makeshift bed, bracing her feet on either side of his legs as he slowly sits down. She nearly topples over but he loosens his grip on her wrists as she leans back. "You're sure you'll be okay down here," she asks, watching as he sets his leg on to the spare pillow before throwing the light blanket over him.

"It's not like I could move somewhere else if I wasn't." She nods, tucking the hair that's fallen from her clip behind her ear. She smiles a little when she feels him catch her arm as she turns to go, bringing her hand to him and kissing her palm.

(They sleep in separate rooms because it's too much work for anyone to get him up the stairs for the rest of the week, up until Quinn's water breaks when she's washing dishes before Sunday mass.)

* * *

She finds it difficult to fall asleep most nights, something she's sure is going to bite her in the ass once the baby's born. It's hard, trying to fall asleep in a room that's barely recognizable to her anymore. Everything still looks the same but when she closes her eyes, she can only smell the soap wafting from the sheets. Before, the room would smell like Noah, something that was slowly replaced by the lingering smell of Rachel's perfume during her husband's absence. It unsettles her more than she'd like, especially since she knows that her husband is home, downstairs in fact, but their bedroom barely shows any sign of his return. Sometimes it still feels like he's gone, especially since she'll be in the middle of a conversation with him, only to find that most of her words have fallen on deaf ears. She knows that it's going to take some time before things get back to some sort of normalcy, but she's starting to feel even more alone than she did when he was in Europe.

She finds herself wondering if she did the right thing by staying with him, something that really surprises her. While he was gone, she discovered just how much she loved him though she simultaneously fell in love with someone else. Now that he's back, though a bit broken (in more than one way), she should be thrilled. It's so nice to be able to touch him again (being physical with Noah was always the thing that came the easiest) but this week has already taken such a toll on her that she can't remember why she should stay with her husband. Most days they can sit through dinner happily, conversations continuing normally even though she can spot the differences (like how he devours his food quickly, how he practically guards it, and how he always seems to hear something outside). But she hates tip toeing around the months they spent apart, something that she does take some responsibility in. She doesn't want to talk about Rachel anymore than he wants to talk about the war. And she hates that he's been home for a week and he's yet to even sleep in the same bed as her. She knows that if he could, he would, but she wonders if it would still feel like she's sleeping in bed alone. If she would feel just as far away from him as she does when she sees him ignore Beth or tune her out when they're talking. He is her husband and feeling so alone with him here makes her wish he'd just leave again. It's too hard the way that it is now and she can't help but think how much better she felt when it was Rachel here with her.

She tucks an arm underneath her pillow, rolling over so that her back faces the open door. She wonders if she'd feel different if she'd been alone these past few months. If Rachel hadn't come along, kept her company, and became so _important_ to Quinn, she'd already be used to being alone and feeling incomplete. This distance in her marriage would feel bearable, maybe even _normal_. As happy as Rachel made her, she's ruining the fragile relationship with her husband. Quinn knows that she's at fault in all this too. After all, she pursued Rachel every step of the way, even if she knew it was wrong, but if Rachel hadn't been so eager to be in her life, maybe Quinn wouldn't have thought twice about her and then she wouldn't feel so displaced in her own life.

She lets out a heavy sigh, her eyes fluttering shut as she hears the grandfather clock chime twice downstairs.

* * *

She wakes up to a soft hand on her shoulder. "Quinn." She blinks slowly, turning on to her other side and smiling a little before yawning. Noah stands beside the bed, the bundle that is their son in the crook of his arm, his other arm leaning heavily on the wooden cane he's been able to walk with. "I think he's hungry." She props herself up and unbuttons the first three buttons on her nightgown. He passes the baby to her before making his way over to his side of the bed.

"What time is it," she asks roughly, looking down as Christopher latches on to her breast.

"Almost time for Beth to wake up." She nods, eyes slowly closing as she pushes her messy hair back. "Are you going to make pancakes for breakfast?" Noah's words pull her out of the half sleep she was drifting into and she tightens her grip on her son lightly, looking down as Chris suckles harder in response to her readjusting her arm.

"Of course, baby," she responds like always, like the ever-dutiful wife. She feels his hand palm her thigh and she can't help the tired sigh that escapes her lips.

Noah's been home for a month now, Christopher for three weeks. She works off only a few hours of sleep most days. Every day she wakes up to feed Chris, tends to Beth, makes breakfast, cleans the house, entertains Beth while she nurses Chris for the millionth time that day, makes lunch, cleans again, puts the kids down, does laundry, feeds Chris, makes dinner, cleans, bathes the kids, puts the kids to bed, then falls asleep for two hours until she has to feed the baby _again_ before starting over again. Some days she'll have to find time to tend to the garden or go to the store and it's those days that she feels like she could collapse at any moment. She honestly doesn't even know how she finds the time to bathe most days.

She loves her family, she does. Things with Noah are better now; He's been able to walk a bit more and his… episodes have been getting shorter and a bit further in between (he actually hasn't had one at all this week). The discontent she felt before still lingers (something that she doesn't think will ever completely go away. After all, it was there before Noah left) but ultimately she realizes that Noah is back and that she made the right choice by staying with her husband. And her son, though a handful, is gorgeous and healthy and everything she could want, but it is all just _so_ much. She's only eighteen years old and she has no time to just sit down and _breathe_ for _one_ second.

(And god, it hurts so much to think that she doesn't even know where Rachel is now.)

She feels her son start to push her away just as she hears Beth start to wake up down the hall. Noah squeezes her thigh, leaning in to kiss the space where neck and shoulder meet. "I'll go get her while you burp him." She nods, bringing the baby to her shoulder tiredly. Her husband pauses in the doorway, half his body already going toward their daughter, the other facing her. "Babe?"

"Hm?" She pats her son's back firmly, already getting up slowly so she can throw her hair up as soon as she gets a burp.

"Are you okay? You look..." he trails off, not sure what to say and what won't offend his still hormonal wife. She's been taking it easy on him because he just came back, but he can tell when she's getting short with him because she gets this look on her face that she only gets when she's reached her wits end with Beth. He knows that everything has been overwhelming for her, especially since she's had to do everything on her own during his time away, and he hasn't really helped her in the least bit since he came back though he can't be much help anyway. After all, this is the first week he's trusted himself enough to hold Christopher while walking.

He looks so concerned about her that she puts a fake smile on her face as Chris burps, a small bit of regurgitated milk spilling on to her shoulder that she barely even feels she's so used to it. "I'm fine. Get Beth please?" Before, she probably would have told him that she's wasn't exactly okay. She would've told him that she would really just like an afternoon away from all of them to sleep or maybe just a second alone so she could scream without worrying anyone. But her husband is recovering and her mother keeps reminding her that husbands' needs go before their own.

It makes her sick to her stomach just how much she's acting like her mother right now. She's tried so hard to not become Judy Fabray but it seems like fate has other plans.

He nods, even smiles a little and she can tell by the almost relieved look on his face that he believes her. Before he would've called bullshit and that thought makes her slump against the headboard while Chris starts crying into her ear.

* * *

She's at the sink washing the morning dishes silently, her eyes closed. She's figured out that this is one of the ways she can get in a little more rest. Her body works on autopilot when it comes to things like dishes and laundry and so she gets through half the dishes blind. She focuses on Beth laughing behind her, followed by a deep chuckle stemming from Noah, all of their noise accompanied by the clanking of silverware against breakfast plates and Beth's highchair. Christopher is in his carrier, making nonsensical noises every time he moves in his sleep, settling himself into the soft cushions surrounding him. Her family is okay and content and she finds herself scrubbing at the pot in her hand a little slower. So long as everyone is fine, she can keep her eyes closed a little longer.

"Didn't you have a new friend? I thought you mentioned meeting a girl in one of your letters," he says randomly, in between bites of his toast. Her eyes open wide, blinking rapidly at the bright light coming in from the window in front of her. The pot in her hand slips, a dull thump resonating beneath the soapy water.

"She left town a few weeks before you came home," Quinn answers, not entirely sure if she's lying to him or not. She really has no idea if Rachel stayed in Lima or if she left for California like she sometimes talked about doing, even before Finn died. "Her boyfriend was killed and she left." She shrugs casually, hoping her voice isn't betraying her because she can feel a lump forming in her throat, threatening to make her voice crack. "Can't say I blame her."

She can hear Noah continuing to eat behind her, unfazed by what his wife is saying, instead more focused on the hash browns on his plate. "Poor girl," he says, voice laced with what sounds like legitimate sympathy for someone he doesn't even know. He takes a bite of food, mouth full when he asks if Quinn knew what division he was apart of.

"I don't really know… I'm not sure I even know what _you_ were apart of." She shuts off the water, drying her hands on her apron as she goes to check on her son. Chris is sleeping soundly, sucking lightly on his fist and she sighs as she smoothes his fine brown hair down. Her stomach growls as she walks over to the table, running her hand through Beth's hair too before putting her hands on Noah's shoulders. He shakes his head and, though she's not looking at his face, she imagines he's probably wearing a small smirk. (She's never been good at remembering anything to do with the military and she doesn't find it necessary to do so.) She reaches over her husband's shoulder and plucks a piece of toast off his plate, taking a small bite before asking, "What about Hud? Is he still fighting or…?"

His fork pauses mid air and she feels his shoulder stiffen beneath her hand. Was that going too far? Is she not even allowed to talk about the person who seemed to be one of the only constants in his letters to her? Surely what they talked about in the letters shouldn't be off topic. After all, she explained where Rachel went off to, shouldn't she be afforded the same courtesy when it came to Hud? "You should probably go to the store today. We're running low on meat and we could probably use some more eggs." He sounds cold and his shoulders don't relax even when he starts eating his food again.

She swallows hard, biting her bottom lip briefly before leaning down to kiss the top of his head. "Of course. Will you be okay watching the kids if I go now?"

"So long as Chris has been fed, we should be able to manage without you for an hour or so." There's still a bit of bite in his voice but she can tell that he's trying to force it down, to make things okay again.

She busies herself with cleaning Beth's face and hands before letting her out of her chair. Noah finishes his plate, standing slowly with the help of his cane. He kisses her quickly before grabbing Chris' Moses basket and following Beth as she wanders into the living room.

She comes back an hour later, her arm heavy from the groceries, she finds that Noah seems even worse than when she left. He won't look at her, barely answers her, and eventually disappears out back for most of the day. She doesn't follow him because she knows that will only make it worse and instead spends the entire day wondering why asking about Hud set him off so much. Even if the boy was dead like she suspected, she doubts that Noah would have gone this long without completely shutting down about it. There's something else, something she doesn't see just yet, and it worries Quinn as to what it could be.

* * *

She's trying to sleep (she's been awake for nearly 20 hours now) but Noah keeps tossing and turning next to her. He keeps alternating between shoving all the blankets off him and greedily stealing the bulk of them from Quinn. She stays silent with her back facing him as she listens to the clock _tick, tick, tick_ until Noah lets out an angry sigh as he flops down on his side. " _Noah_ ," she starts, turning to face him only to be met with his back. "You've been moving all night. You haven't stayed still since you came to bed."

He turns on to his back, carefully watching for his left leg which is still beyond sore before looking at his wife. "I just can't sleep." She frowns as he closes his eyes tiredly because she knows it's not going to help. Ever since breakfast she's felt this weight return to her chest, the distance between her and Noah growing bigger than it ever had. He had never ignored her for that long and had never ignored their entire family for that long either. She knows now that bringing up _anything_ to do with the war is off limits (exactly like her mother told her) and she's okay with that. She felt sick with what very little Noah had already mentioned about the war and she probably couldn't stomach some of the things he could tell her about what he and his war buddy went through. She just wishes that he would realize she didn't mean anything by it and let them go back to how they were.

She blows a few strands of hair away from her eyes and briefly thinks of Rachel. She tries not to think of her very much, especially not when she's in the same room as Noah, but it's more difficult than she thought. Normally she has two kids begging for her attention and it's easy to forget that the brunette was ever a fixture in her house. But with her husband refusing to say more than a few words to her, she can't help but want the girl back in the house.

He rolls on to his side and she scoots closer to him, molding herself to his back as her arm snakes over his side. Touching him was always the easy part. It's how they got into this life actually, and she sighs in relief when he doesn't pull away from her. She laces her fingers with his clammy ones and kisses his back lightly. "You can still talk to me Noah… I'm still here." He stiffens under her touch and it only causes her to squeeze his hand tighter. "Please don't do this to me… I know that's selfish but please don't do this." She rests her head in the space between his shoulder blades, breathing in deep as she closes her eyes. "I feel like we're two steps closer to becoming my parents," she whispers, feeling him relax against her.

He pulls away from her briefly, turning over once more so he can look at the blonde he's known for half his life. "Why do you have Finn's newspaper clipping?" Her eyebrows furrow in confusion and he continues. "I was looking through the desk earlier and saw it. _Why_ did you save that clipping?"

"You ignored me for almost an entire day because I saved a newspaper clipping about someone you don't even know? How do you even know I saved it because of Finn," she asks as he begins to prop himself up.

"How do _you_ know who Finn is? In all of my letters, I only called him Hud. There is no way you could know from the newspaper that that was him." He relaxes against the headboard and pushes the blankets off him before reaching down to adjust the pillow beneath his knee.

Quinn swats his hand away and adjusts the pillow for him. She throws the blanket over his legs as she answers, "I… I didn't know that he was Hud." Why hadn't she thought of that before? She saw them walk off together that day at the train station. She knew his last name was Hudson, that he was from Ohio but she never thought that Rachel's boyfriend was the best friend her husband had made. It's a little surreal, knowing now that while Quinn was with Rachel, Noah was with Finn.

"So then why did you keep it? Was it someone else on the page? Because I looked at that list fifteen times and there isn't a single person you could know on that list."

"Why do you care so much that I kept it, Noah," she whispers, her fingers pulling at the loose threads on the blanket.

"Because that man got himself killed to save my life and the fact that you randomly kept the notice of his death scares the shit out of me, Quinn." She looks up quickly, eyes wide. She hadn't known that. Had she, she would've made sure to never bring up the other man and would have gotten rid of the newspaper clipping. She honestly doesn't even know why she kept it… He reaches for her hands and holds them in his lap. "I'm sorry."

She shakes her head. "Don't apologize. You have nothing to apologize for. I know it's hard for you to think about, let alone talk about. I wouldn't have kept it had I known that he was Hud and that he..." She swallows hard, closing her eyes tight. She knew Noah had been in battle, that he'd been shot twice in the leg and to her, that was as close to death that he got. But to know now that he could be dead and Finn could be alive… She pushes the blankets off of her, reaching to the foot of the bed for her robe. "I'll go throw it out."

" _No_ ," he says, grabbing her hand and tugging her back to her spot on the bed. She arches an eyebrow and he shakes his head. "No. I don't want you to throw it away."

"But you're upset. So upset that you could barely be in the same room as me today." He shakes his head again and opens his mouth only for nothing to come out. He doesn't know how to articulate what he wants to say, isn't sure how much he should allow himself to give away.

"How did you know him," he asks again, noticing that she looks back down at her hands folded awkwardly in her lap. "Did you know Finn before we left?" She shakes her head. He lets out a sigh of relief and she almost wants to laugh.

"Did Finn ever talk to you about a girl?"

He almost gets a smile on his face when she says that. "We talked about you girls a lot. Her name was Rachel? I think. She was from Germany."

Quinn nods, swallowing hard. "I talked to her after you two walked off that day at the train station. It's stupid of me that I didn't realize he was the Hud you were talking about. It's just that no one here, not Rachel or his mother, ever referred to him as that."

"I was the one who gave him the nickname. He called me Puck." She can tell from the sound of his voice that he's trying not to cry.

"You two were very close weren't you?" Her eyes have adjusted well to the darkness and she can see his eyes start to glaze over and feel him pull away without actually letting go of her. She moves closer to him, unfolding her legs and mimics the way he sits against the headboard. She leans into his side and stares at the dresser on the wall opposite of their bed. "I was very close with Rachel…" She can tell by the way he exhales that he already knows what she means. He doesn't push her away like she thought or yell at her for being unfaithful and it's starting to dawn on her that they maybe Finn was just as important as Rachel. "She was over here nearly everyday you were gone. She helped me a lot, with Beth and the house, and me. And eventually we…" She swallows, shaking her head before she exhales. She can't say it out loud. She can't admit to him what she did even if she doesn't regret it for a moment.

They sit in silence and she waits patiently. Noah has never been particularly good with emotions. It takes a lot for him to admit to things, especially to things that he knows will upset others or damn him in someone else's eyes. He will _always_ open up to her (though, since he's been home, that's changed a lot) and this is one thing that sets them apart from her parents and all the other people in this country right now. They _talk_ about all of these things and yes, she has kept him in the dark about her life for the past nine months. But some things are harder than others to talk about and that's why she'll wait patiently for him to admit to her that there was someone else.

He lets out a shaky breath before dropping a kiss on the top of her head. "I love-" he cuts himself off, scoffing as the tears start to make their way down his cheeks. " _Loved_ ," he corrects, "him." It's the one thing that he can think of to say, the most he's willing to give away so candidly to his wife. He stomach feels like it's in knots and he squeezes her hand as she waits for her response.

She buries her face into his shoulder. "I love her."

He turns to look down at her, smiling a little even though he can't seem to stop crying. "We're one fucked up bunch aren't we?" She laughs into his shoulder, not even caring that he cursed.

"We're very lucky to have found each other then," she mumbles into his skin before things grow quiet again. She feels heavy again in an entirely different way. She should be upset. Both of them have just admitted infidelities, even though neither of them could physically say it. But neither of them are upset or feel jealous and it makes her wonder if there's something wrong with them. You aren't supposed to love more than one person. You're not supposed to be okay with the fact that your husband cheated on you. Maybe they don't love each other. Maybe that's why they're both eerily okay with these admissions.

"So what happens now?" She doesn't answer him, just lifts a hand to his face and brushes away his tears with the pad of her thumb. "I _still_ love you, ya know. I still want to be with you. I want to watch our kids grow and have you there…"

She smiles sadly and nods against his shoulder. "I still love you too… Do we… Do we talk about them? About what happened?"

He takes a deep breath and gives her hands a small squeeze. "I don't think I can do that… At least not now. I couldn't even look at that newspaper without getting upset." As much as this would be considered pulling away from her, she gets it. She had never told Noah about Rachel and even now that he at least knows the tip of the iceberg, she's not sure she wants to share Rachel with him.

"Let's make a deal." She lifts her head and he turns to look at her in the dark. "We don't talk about it now. We don't talk about it for a few months. Hell, maybe not even for a year or two. Maybe not ever. But if we ever feel the need to ask, after a proper amount of time of course, we'll talk. We don't have to tell everything but just… something."

He nods. "And this doesn't happen again right? I don't…" He sighs, irritated that he can't figure out how to phrase what he wants to say. "You're _my_ wife and I don't want to share you with anyone else.

I don't want there to be another Rachel or another Finn or whoever. It's just us from now on."

"Okay," she agrees, smiling a little as she does so. They do love each other, their love is just a little bit different and that's okay. She finally feels at home with her husband. There's no more real secrets and even though she knows it will still be hard for Noah to return to normal, she doesn't feel like running anymore. She knows now that this is where she's supposed to be.

He drops her hands and instead sticks his right hand out toward her. "Deal." She places her hand in his, allowing him to firmly shake her hand. She kisses him softly after she lets go of his hand and then finds her way underneath the covers again. "We're gonna be okay aren't we?" He scoots down on the bed so he can lie down too and she sighs.

"Yeah. I think we are." She believes it this time.


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a final note, the title comes from the song Your Ex Lover is Dead by Stars. I suggest listening to it on a loop for this final chapter

"What are you doing?" She leans into the door frame, hands crossed underneath her chest. She smirks when she sees the young boy turn around quickly, hands up to show that they're empty and eyes wide in fear.

"I'm… I'm not doing anything," he mumbles quickly, stepping out of their parents' closet slowly.

Beth rolls her eyes, padding her way over to peer into the messy room. The winter blankets that are normally stored underneath the shelf where their mother keeps her shoes are tossed to the side, the old trunk now exposed. "You're not gonna be able to open it." She drops down in front of the trunk, pulling it out of its place a little bit more. "Chris and I have tried opening it a bunch of times but it's locked." She tugs on the lid with no avail, her shoulders sagging.

"Is there a key?"

" _Obviously_ there's a key, Erik. If we knew where Mom kept it then we would have opened it already." Beth pushes her long blonde hair out of her face, motioning for her brother to sit down next to her. "When we still lived in Ohio, Mom actually kept it out. It was at the foot of their bed. I think you were probably a little too young to really remember that though." He nods and she sighs as they both stare blankly at the box in front of them. "Mom in her sewing room?"

"Yeah. Dad and Chris are at the shop. I thought I'd have enough time to sneak in and out."

"Well kid, you're much too loud to be sneaking anywhere. I heard you pulling on the trunk as soon as I came in." She ruffles his hair, laughing to herself when he glares at her as he smoothes his hair back in place.

"Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be doing something for school or whatever?"

"First off, it's July. Why would I be doing something for school? Secondly, I have to talk to Mom about something, not that it's any of your business." They sit silently for a moment before Beth eventually asks, "What do you think is in it?"

"Presents," he says hopefully, only for his sister to shake her head. "Did you ever see inside it?"

"Kind of… Once. When we were moving, I saw Mom put a dress in it. Her wedding dress and Daddy's uniform were already inside from what I can remember. It was really full though so there was probably a lot of other stuff in there."

"If it's just a bunch of clothes then why is it locked?"

"One of life's greatest mysteries, little brother."

"What are you two doing?" They both jump, Erik returning to the same stance he was in when Beth caught him, the other blonde mimicking him. "Beth, you're twenty one. Why are you helping your brother snoop through my things?" Quinn waves for both her children to get out of her closet. She pushes the chest back into its place, tossing the blankets back on top of it. "You both know better than to dig through my things."

"What's in it, Mama?" She looks up to see that Erik has sat down on the edge of her bed, Beth sprawled out behind him, messing up the pillows and blankets.

"Old clothes. My wedding dress, your father's uniform." She shrugs, brushing them off the same way she did when she caught Beth and Chris a few years back and Chris asked her the same thing.

"Why's it locked then?" She stands up, hands already on her hips, eyebrow arched in a way that the Puckerman children already know isn't a good sign.

"Because I don't want any of you getting in to it. There's important keepsakes in there." She glances at Beth who seems more focused on her hair than what's going on before looking back at Erik, eyebrow arching a bit higher. "Anymore questions?"

"I'm 21, don't live here anymore, and go to college. Can _I_ look inside of it?" She closes her eyes, refusing to turn her head to look at her mother. It's silent and she knows that she should've kept her mouth shut. She can picture her mother standing there, the look she always gets on her face magnified times ten. It's a look that can still put some fear in her, even though she's out on her own now. She opens of her eyes slowly, jumping a little when she realizes her mother is looking down at her, hands still on her hips. "Jesus!"

"Beth, I swear you've been trying my patience since the day you were born," Quinn mumbles, dropping her arms before running her fingers through Beth's hair. "You're over for dinner aren't you?"

"I'm certainly not gonna turn down your cooking but there is something else I wanted to talk to you about." She smiles when her mother shakes her head, smiling herself as she walks into the adjoining bathroom.

"Erik, would you please go to your room? I have a feeling your sister's going to say something I don't want you to hear."

"You never want me to hear anything she says," Erik complains, standing up just as Quinn reenters the bedroom, stopping to kiss her son's head.

"That's because she has a potty mouth like your father. I want one of you to come out with clean language and you're my last hope." He sighs but continues on his way out of the room, shutting the door behind him before Quinn could even ask him to do so. "Okay, what is it? You have that look on your face that you only get when you're about to tell me something that's going to upset me." Beth hides her face in her hands, not even trying to move over when she feels the mattress dip next to her. "Is it about your birthday? School?"

She shakes her head before she props herself up on her elbows so she can look at her mother. "You know how Chris' going away party is this Saturday?" Quinn nods. "Well, there's kind of a protest I promised to go to at the same time in San Francisco. It's supposed to be huge and amazing and-"

Quinn raises her hand, signaling for her daughter to stop. "This sounds an awful lot like you're telling me you won't be coming to the party. But that can't possibly be right. Because my daughter, my _only_ daughter, always makes time for her important family functions. Especially when it's her brother's going away party."

Beth groans, sitting up completely, crossing her legs in the middle of the bed. "It's not like it's the last time I'll see him! He lives with me and doesn't even leave until Monday. That leaves Sunday completely open."

"He is going off to fight in a war! You may never see him again after this weekend! Don't you want to spend as much time with him as possible and not look back on this time and realize you missed out on a wonderful, happy day with your brother and all of your family? And what if you get arrested at this protest like you did last time? You'll completely ruin Christopher's party."

"Nana Puckerman really taught you how to guilt didn't she?"

Quinn smiles as she leans forward to push Beth's hair out of her face. "She's been quilting me since I was 16. I was bound to pick some of it up, just like you will." She can tell her daughter really wants to go and help instead of going to the party. Normally, Quinn would support her political activism even if it does make her worry. Beth's trying to make a difference, has ever since she got to college. She's been doing what Quinn never would but hoped her daughter could. But this concerns her family as a whole. She knows Christopher probably won't care if Beth skipped out because her daughter's right. They'll definitely see one another again before he deploys. She's a greedy mother though (which was part of the reason they all moved out here when Beth was accepted into Berkeley) and all she wants is one more weekend with her family before everything is potentially ruined. "I'm asking you to miss this _one_ protest. That's it. Please do this for me?"

"Fine," Beth concedes, falling back on to the bed when her mother hugs her. "Eep! Mom! You're on my hair!"

"Sorry, dear," Quinn mutters, kissing Beth quickly on her cheek before she releases her daughter. She grabs Beth's hand once she sits up, giving it a small squeeze as she smiles. "Thank you for doing this for me."

"Can I see what's in the trunk since I decided to come to the party?" Her mother laughs as she gets off the bed.

* * *

Quinn Puckerman stands at the island in her kitchen, her mother on one side of her, complaining about how she's making the potato salad wrong, and Mrs. Puckerman on the other, talking to herself quietly in Yiddish about Judy. She tries to stay focused on peeling the hard boiled eggs in front of her but then suddenly her mom has an apple in her hand, getting ready to chop. "I'm not putting apples in my potato salad! You and dad are the only one who likes it like that. Christopher especially doesn't like apples in it and this is _his_ party," Quinn snaps, causing her mother to fix her with a glare.

"I was just trying to be helpful," she responds, taking a sip from her lemonade. "And there's no need for you to raise your voice at me."

"I'm trying to get food done for over 30 people. You trying to change _my_ recipes, is not helping." Quinn looks out the open back door, squinting a little to make out the people in the bright California sun. She can see her father next to Noah at the grill, her husband looking just as irritated as she is. She notices her father finish off a beer and she jumps on the opportunity. "Daddy just finished another beer. Maybe you should go get another one for him?"

"Fine. I know when you don't want me here." Her mother wipes her hands though the only thing she's done in the kitchen this afternoon was hand Quinn a bowl of macaroni salad and pour herself a drink.

Once she's safely out of earshot, Mrs. Puckerman turns to her, chopping up the last few strawberries on her cutting board. "She must've just learned that then." Quinn shakes her head, giggling to herself even though she knows she shouldn't.

"Hey, Q! That chicken ready?" She nods, moving around her mother in law to grab the bowl of marinating chicken out of the fridge.

"How many 'tips' did my father give you," she asks when she steps outside, putting the chicken down on the table beside the grill as Noah takes off all the finished burgers and hot dogs.

"Surprisingly not that many. He did, however, rant about your mom and then ranted about how proud he was of Chris." He slings an arm around her shoulders and she finds herself leaning in to him, relaxing for the first time this morning since she got out of bed. She watches as Erik begs Christopher to play with him and she smiles when her oldest son actually stops talking with some of his friends to go up into the tree house with her baby. "We did good," Noah states, sounding like the proud father he's always been.

"We really have." It's nice to be surrounded by so many family and friends, that all these people care enough to support their son. Her parents and Mrs. Puckerman flew out here for the party, and Mr. Green, their neighbor, even shut his store down for the day so he could make it. They're all here because they want to be and Quinn's glad they were able to meet such a wonderful group of people when they moved out here four years ago.

" _Mom_!" They both turn their heads at the sound of their eldest daughter. She raises on to her tip toes to give Noah a quick kiss before she walks back into her kitchen, smiling when she sees Beth walking in with a large pink box in her hand.

"Did you check it before you left," she asks and Beth nods as she opens it up. "It's perfect! Thank you for picking it up for me."

"It wasn't a problem. I did, however, bring along someone. Is that okay?"

"Of course! You know I don't care when extra people join us. Ben is here everyday till 6 when his father is working and it seems like every Sunday dinner I'm making food for at least two people who aren't family." Quinn closes up the box and picks it up, putting it in to the fridge so it can stay cool until it's time to cut it. "Where is your friend?"

"She's actually the teacher of that acting workshop I took last week. She's gonna be teaching at Berkeley in the fall." Quinn nods absently, listening to her daughter with one ear as she tries to move a few things around so the fridge door will actually close with the cake inside. "She's also my ride home tonight since I doubt Chris will be coming home and I know you and Dad will be busy cleaning up."

"Oh, so you're ditching out before the cleaning happens," Quinn teases, finally shutting the fridge door securely. She can tell without looking at her that Beth is rolling her eyes.

"Mom, this is Rachel. Rachel, this is my mother, Quinn." Over the years, Quinn hasn't thought too much of the name. She's met other people named Rachel and it's never caused her to pause before. But she finds herself in the middle of her kitchen, during the summer of '64, face to face with a woman she hasn't seen in twenty years.

"Yes, I think we've met before," Rachel says quietly, hand outstretched for Quinn to shake anyway. Beth looks at her curiously but Quinn's begun working on autopilot again. She takes Rachel's hand, shaking it wearily, like if she were to grip her too hard she'd disappear. A shrill scream is heard outside and Quinn drops Rachel's hand immediately. She glances at Noah who hasn't moved from his spot near the grill meaning Erik isn't hurt, or at least not seriously.

"Beth, will you just go double check that your brother is unharmed? He should be fine since nobody seems too concerned but your brother also overreacts." Beth's already peering outside, body slumping once she spots her brother.

"He's fighting with Ben over a cookie I'm assuming they stole," Beth groans, stepping outside quickly. " _Boys!_ "

"I should probably go, shouldn't I?" She looks up at Rachel who stands awkwardly on the other side of the island.

Quinn opens her mouth only to shut it again. Rachel probably should go. Her life is wonderful now, has been for quite some time, and this is a day for her son. But she can't find it in herself to turn Rachel away, never could tell the brunette to leave, though she's never wanted her to before. "You teach," she finds herself asking, picking up a hardboiled egg from the counter in front of her, returning to the peeling she started before.

"Yeah… I spent a few years not really doing anything. I went back to New York and did a few plays while working some odd jobs. It was never anything big and eventually I came out here. I was working as an assistant for MGM and decided to take some classes at UCLA. Then before I knew it, I was taking a job up here to teach." Rachel doesn't take her eyes off her the entire time she speaks. She watches as Quinn peels away the cracked shell, hands shaking slightly. She looks older, something that shouldn't be surprising because it's been two decades since Rachel's seen her last, but it's still weird for Rachel to see. The blonde has a few grey hairs at her temples, even though the rest of her hair has been sun bleached so that it's an even lighter shade than when Rachel last saw her. She has small laugh lines in the corner of her eyes and Rachel picks up a hard boiled egg in order to stop herself from touching Quinn.

"You look exactly the same," she says softly, finally looking up from the egg in her hand. Rachel gives her a small smile but doesn't really say anything. "You barely look like you've aged at all." She swallows hard, shaking her head when she feels like she might start crying. There's no reason for her to cry. She's created a wonderful life in Rachel's absence. Her marriage grew better, stronger. She feels like so much more of an equal in her marriage and in life now (something that she does have to credit Rachel for influencing). She's raising three beautiful kids and two of them have grown to be adults she's proud to call her children. She and Noah are now 100% self sufficient, something they weren't when Rachel was in her life. Everything was been good without Rachel and, realistically, Quinn knows they wouldn't have been good had she asked the brunette to stay. If she traded in her husband for the other girl, Quinn doesn't know where she'd be. She wouldn't have had Erik, her parents would have disowned her and never talked to her again, she would have ruined Noah's life. They both knew that she and Rachel only worked behind closed doors.

But god does it hurt to realize that Rachel doesn't matter much in her life anymore.

"I used to miss you _so_ much, Rachel." She bites her bottom lip, still willing herself not to cry. "That first year Noah was home was the hardest and I used to wish that you'd taken me with you to wherever you escaped to." She sighs and grabs the peeled egg off the counter, slicing it slowly before tossing this slices in to the potato salad.

"Quinn?" They both look to the door, Noah standing there with the finished chicken in his hand. His eyebrows furrow when he sees Quinn's red eyes, before looking curiously at the other women in his kitchen. "Hi. I'm Noah. You are?"

She feels like she could throw up at any second. "I'm Rachel…" He nods slowly, walking into the house and shutting the door. He puts the plate of chicken down on the only free counter left before turning back to the brunette.

He holds his hand out and she stares at it confused. She glances at Quinn who juts her chin towards Noah, her face unreadable to Rachel now. She wipes her hand on the towel next to her on the counter, dusting off any tiny pieces of shell that may be left on her hands before shaking his hand firmly. "Thank you for taking care of my family back then," he says politely. "And it's an honor to finally meet the girl Finn told me about."

Her eyes widen and she drops his hand immediately. " _What_ ," she asks, turning to Quinn for some sort of answer.

"He saved my life," Noah answers quietly, bringing Rachel's attention back to him. "He was a good man and I'm sorry that he was never able to come home to you." He takes a deep breath, picking up the tray of chicken again, this time grabbing the hamburger and hot dog buns too. "It was nice meeting you Rachel but I really hope you do not decide to stay."

She nods and when he finally walks into the backyard, closing the door behind him again, she turns back to Quinn. "I used to miss you too… Haven't missed you in quite a while though."

"Are you happy," Quinn asks and Rachel smiles.

"Very. I've been doing what I want to do for quite some time. I like what I do and I've got somebody at home who loves me and is okay with me teaching and protesting and raising all kinds of hell."

"That's good, Rach… I'm glad you're doing everything you wanted to do."

Rachel shrugs. "I'm happier that you're doing what you want. From what little I've heard from Beth, you're not the housewife I once knew."

"I'm still a housewife but, yes. I do a lot more for myself now."

"She grew into a wonderful young woman, Quinn."

"You helped with that you know." Rachel rolls her eyes but Quinn stands firm. "You weren't around for very long but you made your impact on me and I carried that down to her."

"I should go," Rachel breathes out, nodding as she gets up. "I shouldn't have even come. I thought Beth was yours but I wasn't sure… I should've known I'd be right."

"You didn't expect us to move out here. I didn't expect it either. And I'm glad you came." She catches the brunette's eyes, leaning across the island to grab Rachel's hand. She squeezes lightly, smiling brightly. "I'm not sorry I met you, Rachel. You did a lot for me and even though I haven't thought of you as often as I used to, I love you. Maybe not in the same way, but I do."

"I love you too, Quinn." It feels different, almost strange to say that now. It's something foreign, something ancient and something she never thought she'd say out loud again. "I'm glad everything worked out the way it did. Even if there was some heartache in there."

Quinn walks her to the front door, holding the door open as Rachel grabs her purse from the pile by the door. The brunette pauses, turning to face Quinn before she steps out the door. "Noah is… He knows everything doesn't he?"

"He knows enough."

Rachel nods, smiling a little. "Noah is an amazing man. To know what he does and thank me?" She nods again, this time more definitive. "No other man would be able to do that."

"I know. He's been very good to me. Has been since we were kids."

"Almost makes me feel guilty for what we did… _Almost."_ Quinn lets out a breath, nodding in agreement. Bravely, she slowly takes a step forward, wrapping her arms around the smaller brunette. She feels Rachel burry her head in to her neck and it only makes Quinn hug her tighter. She wishes this meeting hadn't been as awkward as it was but Quinn's not sure they could've ever met again and everything be okay. Not when they're both happy without the other and not after everything they did.

"Goodbye, liebling," she says against the blonde's skin. She never said that before. After that last day with the blonde, she hadn't said goodbye. At the time it felt too final, like a nail into a coffin, and so she had simply smiled and walked out the door. In a way, it preserved the little bit of hope she needed to make it the first few years without her or Finn. But now twenty years have past and this goodbye is long over due.

"Goodbye, Rachel." They pull apart and stare at each other for a moment longer before Quinn kisses Rachel one last time. It's nothing like before. It's quick and close lipped, entirely too platonic for what they once had. But Quinn can still feel that small, far away pull inside her that reminds her just how alive she used to feel when the world was falling apart.

When Rachel walks out the door, Quinn never sees or hears from her again.


End file.
